When The Night Meets The Morning Star
by UnePetiteCourge
Summary: Santana Lopez is a lawyer. Two blondes. One of them needs her help, the other one is such a pain in the ass. Brittana.
1. Chapter 1

"All done! You can go now." The young blonde woman said, straightening her daughter's school uniform.

"Thank you, mommy." The girl answered, bouncing from heel to toe. She couldn't wait to go to school and meet her friends. She turned around and took a few steps toward the stairs, when the woman called out to her.

"Sweetie, didn't you forget something?"

The girl smiled and ran back to her mother. "I love you, mommy!" She hugged her and kissed on the cheek.

"I love you too, Kathy. Now go and have fun with your friends, but don't forget that pretty girls like you should behave in the classroom." Her mother said.

"Yeees, ma'am." Kathy answered and pressed her lips together as she took a glance at school doors.

"Okay-okay, I'm not going to waste your time anymore." The blonde chuckled at her daughter's hurry. "I'll see you after school."

The girl jumped up, turned around and ran to the building. When she was on the top step of school porch, she looked back at her mother and happily waved to her. After that, Kathy opened the door and stepped inside.

The weather was perfect, it was warm and sunny. The young woman thought it would be wonderful to go for a walk in the park with Kathy after her classes. But now she needed to go to the store and buy some food for cooking dinner. She sighed contently and walked to her car.

* * *

After a couple of hours the blonde parked at her house. She took out the bags from the trunk and walked to the front door humming some melody. When the blonde was in the kitchen she saw her husband was standing at the island. He was holding a glass of whiskey in one hand. She saw an empty bottle on the island.

The blonde stiffened, but then took a deep breath and went to lay out food from bags in the fridge.

"Where have you been?" The man asked demanding.

"Well, hello to you too, Derek. Why you're home?" The woman said calmly.

"I asked you a question! Where have you been?" The man growled grabbing his wife's arm and pulling her to himself so their faces were inches apart. The blonde winced as she felt alcohol in his breath.

"Jeez, calm down." She rolled her eyes and tried to move away, but he only tightened his grasp on her arm. "I took Kathy to school and then drove to the store." She looked at him cautiously.

He just scoffed. "What a wonderful story. And I should believe in it? Where have you been? Who is he? Do I know him?" He demanded.

"What?! What are you talking about?" She looked in disbelief at her husband.

"Do I look like an idiot, huh? Do you think I'm going to work like a hell for our family and you will be fucking around?" He roared and slapped her across the face.

It wasn't the first time when Derek got drunk and hit her. Sobering up he always apologized telling her, that this would never ever happen again. But when he hit you once, he hit you once again and again and again. A few years ago he pushed her down the stairs and she broke her arm. Sure thing, she told her friends that she stumbled and failed to keep the balance. But what happened today…today was different. Today there was a special evil glint in his eyes which she had never seen before. It was like he didn't hear what she was telling him. "So, could you tell me where have you been or I should beat a shit out of you before I'll get an answer?"

"Honey, I swear I was in the store. I have no one. Only you. I just love you and our daughter." There were tears in her eyes when she looked at her husband. The blonde was literally shaking with fear.

"Our daughter… I'm not even sure she's ours. You're being such a whore back in high school. Who knows how many guys you've slept with. And me…I'm just a fool who trusted you." He narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice.

Her eyes widened at his words. "You're crazy!"

And then he snapped. He pressed her back into the counter and clasped his hands on her neck. "Don't you dare talking to me like that! You're fucking whore!"

"I've never cheated on you. Not now, not in high school. You know that." The blonde was trying.

Her husband just mocked. "Oh, come on, _darling_. You've been a head cheerleader for God's sake!"

They were high school sweethearts. Then she got pregnant and they decided to keep a baby. Of course, at first time it was hard, because after graduating they both went to college. But their parents were helping them to raise Kathy.

When they got college diplomas, Derek already had great plans for their future. They concluded that his wife should be with Kathy and there was no need for her to having a job. By now Derek is a successful young politician and let's just say that he was earning enough money so his family lived comfortably.

In the public eye their family was perfect. And it was true before Derek drank too much a few years ago and it all went in a wrong way. Since then it has happened from time to time, but the blonde always gave him another chance. One day he was crying on her lap because of what he did. She comforted him telling it was an accident. Each time injuries were getting worse. But she truly believed that her husband will change.

"Derek, let me go. I can't breathe." She was gasping for air. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Let you go, huh? No, I will kill you and then our daughter. Oh sorry, _your_ daughter." He mocked and clasped his hands on her throat more violently.

Her eyes widened as she desperately was trying to unhook his hands from her neck. He pushed her more into the counter so she dropped her hands and clung of it until she groped something. It was a knife. She grabbed it and without thinking hit her husband in the chest turning the knife's handle. Derek released his grasp and she pushed him away. He stumbled back and his head went straight down to the ground.

The woman was breathless as she stared in horror at her husband. The whole floor was in blood. She quickly kneeled next to him lifting his head and laid it on her lap. "Derek… Oh my God… Derek, please, open your eyes." She felt something sticky on her palm and lifting his head a little so she could see. Blood was flowing from his head. The blonde was shaking, she choked with sobs. She inhaled a deep breath, then carefully placed her husband's head on the floor, stood up and ran for her phone. She frantically dialed 911.

"911 do you need police, fire or ambulance?" The operator answered.

The blonde took a deep breath again as she was trying to calm herself down. "Uh, hello. I think police and ambulance."

"Okay. What's the address, Miss?" The operator asked, but she didn't hear her. She just stared at her husband's body.

"Miss?"

She glanced at the empty bottle of whiskey. "I think I just killed my husband." The blonde said quietly.

"Miss, what's the address you're at?" The operator repeated her question.

When she told where she's been living, the blonde looked back at him.

"Miss, please stay home. Ambulance and police are on their way."

"Okay."

"Okay, good. I need to know your name, Miss."

"Yeah, sure... It's Quinn. Quinn Fabray-Walcott."

* * *

**A/N: I have to say that there will be a lot of Quinn in the first few chapters because I can't begin this story without it. So if someone is going to read ****it, please, be patient.**

**Oh, if my English really sucks you should tell me and I'll stop writing until better times. Because I don't want to embarrass myself.**


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." Quinn was sitting on the ground next to Derek's body. Silent tears dropped down her cheeks. She didn't understand how it happened. She thought, she would be the one who should die today. But then he said about Kathy. The woman knew he would regret when he'll get sober and will realize what he had done. At the same time the thought flashed in her mind, what if Derek doesn't stop drinking. What if Kathy will be the next. What if he's going to beat their daughter just the way he was beating her. What if he's going to kill her too.

The doorbell cut her off from her thoughts. Quinn looked up at the front door and then back at Derek. She stood up wiping her tears and walked to open the door. She was looking at the really short brunette in a police uniform, behind her was a tall muscular man, apparently her partner. In a different situation Quinn would have laughed about how ridiculous those two looked next to each other.

"Hello, Ms. Walcott, I'm Detective Rachel Berry and this is my partner Detective David Karofsky". The woman said.

"Uh…hello. Please, come in." Quinn croaked. She moved away as police and medics stepped into the house. She was a mess right now, but being a lady she couldn't break out in tears. She was a public man wife so she had learned how to hide her emotions.

"Oh my God! I-It's Derek Waclott!" She heard as one of medics exclaimed.

It was annoying the shit out of her. Quinn was already going to tell him to take a picture and send it on twitter as Detective Berry approached to her and offered to go to the living room while her partner and medics were dealing with Derek's body.

"Ms. Walcott, can you tell me what happened?" The brunette asked carefully.

Quinn huffed. "Don't you see? My husband is dead! There is a knife in his chest and blood all over his head. That's what happened!" She was almost yelling.

Detective's eyes widened. "Yeah…I'm sorry, b-but I just need to-" She stuttered when Quinn cut her off.

"As far as I know, you have to read to me my rights. Or am I wrong, Detective Berry?" She asked angrily.

"Yes, uh, no. I mean I have to, but it's only if you, uh, if I'm arrest-" The woman gasped and looked straight into Quinn's eyes. "Oh my Barbra. You want to say it was you wh-who killed him?" She whispered. Quinn just stared at the woman in front of her. The blonde knew she won't be able to control herself if she'd said a word.

"But why?" The brunette asked. She was fully aware it was unprofessional, but she couldn't help it. Something in those hazel eyes caught her off guard and she needed to know why Quinn did that. She had to know so she could help her, because that woman in front of her didn't look like a frenetic murderer.

The blonde sighed heavily. She knew she doesn't have to answer yet. But it's not like she wasn't going to deal with the consequences. And it wasn't some stranger who sat next to her on the couch, it was a Police Detective. She already told a 911 operator after all.

For some strange reasons she trusted that woman. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry for snapped at you earlier. And it's Quinn, you can call me Quinn."

The brunette nodded waiting for Quinn to continue, but the woman just stared mutely at her.

"Ms., uh, Quinn. You certainly don't have to answ-"

"He was choking me and then he said that he'll kill our daughter." The blonde whispered almost inaudibly. Tears rolled down her face.

Chill ran down the police woman's spine as her eyes widened in horror. She looked down at the blonde's neck and saw the terrible signs of suffocations. She gulped.

Few minutes they were sitting in silence before the brunette jumped up a little. She pulled out her notebook and pen, then looked back at the kitchen to see if anyone was going to the living room. Not seeing her partner or medics she looked down into her notebook and quickly began to write something on it. She tore a piece of paper and pushed the note into Quinn's hand. The blonde woman looked at her confused and was about to say something but the sound of approaching footsteps made Quinn changed her mind and she stayed quiet.

"We've done there. Ms. Walcott, you have to come with us." Detective Karofsky stepped into the living room. The blonde looked up at him and nodded.

"Do you need my help? " He asked his partner.

The brunette rolled her eyes and huffed. "Of course I don't, David. I'm not a nervous student and it's not my first work day. I did it before, you know? It means that your question is absolutely inappropriate. We're working together for a long time, so you should know what I can do." She exclaimed dramatically. The man just nodded and stepped outside.

Making sure that they were alone Detective Berry looked back at the blonde. "You need a lawyer, Quinn. And not just a good lawyer but the best one. That note, there is a name and an address where you can find her. You should contact to her as soon as possible and since there is no way you can go now, I gave you the address of place where she will be in the evening." The brunette whispered and stood up from the couch. "Ms. Walcott, you're under arrest for suspicion of murdering your husband. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand each of these rights I have explained to you?"

"Thank you. And yes, I do." The blonde answered sadly.

* * *

"So Ms. Waclott, tell us how it happened?" Detective Karofsky asked. Quinn and two Detectives were in the interrogation room by now.

"What happened what?" The blonde asked back.

"How your husband died." The man answered.

Quinn was shifting in the chair, her fingers were fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I, uh, I came home and Derek was in the kitchen…" The blonde stopped as all events flashed before her eyes.

"He was in the kitchen and?" The police man insisted.

She looked up at him. "Uh, I need a lawyer". The woman said.

"What? Answer the question, Ms. Walcott!" Detective Karofsky slammed his fist on the table, but Quinn didn't even flinch.

"Karofsky…" The brunette began to speak in a warning tone, but Quinn cut her off.

"First of all, it's Fabray-Walcott. And I won't say anything without my lawyer here." She said sternly. The man huffed and leaned back into his chair.

"Okay then I'll take you to the cell, Ms. Fabray-Walcott." The brunette said as she stood up and walked to Quinn. As soon as they came out of the interrogation room Quinn looked at the Detective who was walking behind her.

"Detective Berry, if I'm not mistaken I have the right to a phone call."

"Well, technically there is no right to make a phone call. It's a privilege, not a right." The woman answered. As the brunette said that, she saw the panic in Quinn's eyes. "And-" She continued. "-we don't have to, but normally Police allows you one call after you're booked." The Detective smiled gently and pointed on the phone. "I'll be waiting right here."

The blonde knew she wouldn't be able to pick up Kathy from school and go with her to the park, like she thought in the morning. She didn't even know when she could see her. Quinn called the only person whom she'd trust with her own life.

"Hello?" She heard a cheerful voice on the other end of phone and couldn't help it but her lips curled up a little at the corners.

"Britt, it's me." The blonde said quietly.

"Quinn! Are you okay? What happened? I was watching The News, well, not exactly. I was having rehearsal as my phone got off. It was my friend who said that Derek was dead. I thought it was a completely bullshit and we started to argue, and he said me to turn the TV on. But I was on the stage! And the only place with TV I could think of, was that little café across the street. So I ran there. And that kindly woman-" She was rambling as Quinn cut her off.

"Brittany, stop."

"Uh, sorry. What happened? Where are you? Is it true? I've seen The News! I called you, but all my calls were going straight to voicemail. I was so worried about you! I drove to your place and saw your car, but the front door of the house was sealed with police tape." She breathed.

"I'm at the Police station. I need a favor, Britt." Quinn answered.

"Anything!"

"I need you to pick Kathy up from school. And can she stay with you for a while?" Quinn asked.

"Sure! It's not a problem at all. You're staying with me too, right?" Brittany said.

"I don't think so."

"What? Why? I can pick you up too, so you don't have to take a cab. I know you're there without your car."

"I'll stay here, B. I have to go now. Thank you." Quinn said sadly and hung up so the other woman didn't have a time to say anything back.

Quinn and Brittany met in the Glee club back in high school. They easily get along and soon after meeting with Quinn the other girl joined the cheerleading squad. Quinn was two years older than Brittany, but even when she went to college they still kept in touch. They were visiting each other, Skyping or just texting. After graduating Yale Quinn, Derek and Kathy moved to New York where Brittany already was a student at Juilliard. The blonde thought that her life couldn't be happier. She had a loving husband, an amazing daughter and a best friend around. Even in nightmares she couldn't imagine what a mess it will be.

* * *

Quinn was sitting in the solitary cell and thinking what to expect next. She couldn't afford a lawyer and she couldn't spend Derek's money neither. It just felt wrong. She didn't know if Detective Berry recommended to her a free lawyer. Anyway she was sitting in jail now so it's not like she could contact that woman. The blonde was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She looked up and saw the guard.

"Quinn Fabray-Walcott, looks like it's your lucky day. Sweet people bailed you out, you can leave the cell now." He said.

The woman stared at him in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. There are no mistakes, lady." The man answered and walked her down the hall.

When they passed through the last door Quinn stopped dead in her tracks. She looked like she saw a ghost. Derek's parents were standing in front of her. The older woman rushed up to the blonde and hugged her tightly.

"Quinn, sweetheart. That is a misunderstanding! We know you since you were sixteen, you're like a daughter for us. How could they think that you killed your husband?" She was crying.

The blonde stood still and didn't know what to say. _'I'm sorry, Carol, but it was me'_ or _'I'm so sorry, I wish I could say that it's not true'_. Quinn snapped out of her haze as George Walcott cleared his throat.

"Ladies, let's get out of here."

Carol threw her arm over Quinn shoulders leading her to the front door. When they made their way to the car Quinn stopped and looked at her parents-in-law.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She began to choke with sobs.

The couple stared aghast at her.

"So it is true." The man said dryly.

Quinn stood with her head down not daring to look into their eyes.

"Carol, get in the car." George said as he walked toward the driver seat.

The older woman looked at her husband. "But, George-"

"I said get in that fucking car!" She glanced back at Quinn who still was staring at the ground. Carol didn't know what to say so she turned around and walked to the passenger seat. George started the car and sped away as fast as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Brittany was sitting on the couch thinking about what she could do to help Quinn. She knew why her best friend was forced to stay at the police station. She wanted to go there, but she couldn't leave Kathy all alone. And there is no way she could take a little girl with her. It meant that Brittany had to wait until tomorrow. She was going to take Kathy to school and after that she would go to police. Brittany nodded confirming that decision to herself. She was about to make hot chocolate when the doorbell rang. The young woman made her way to the front door. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her best friend was standing on the porch.

"Oh my God, Quinn!" Brittany ran to the blonde wrapping her arms tightly around Quinn's shoulders. Quinn buried her face in the crook of Britanny's neck as tears were streaming down her face.

"Shhh, I'm here. It's gonna be okay." The woman cooed. "Come on, let's go."

After Brittany closed the door with her foot they were still hugging tightly.

"I was gonna make some hot chocolate".

Quinn didn't move.

"Or…I can fry bacon." As Brittany said that, she felt Quinn smiled a little against her skin. "That girl and her bacon." She chuckled pulling away so she could take a better glance at the woman in front of her. "Oh my God, your clothes." Brittany whispered.

Quinn looked down at herself and realized she hasn't had a chance to change. Traces of blood were all over her shirt. She looked up at Brittany and opened her mouth to say something, but she could just move her lips.

"It's okay. Come on, let me take you to the bathroom." They went towards the stairs when Quinn stopped abruptly.

"Kathy?" She asked almost inaudibly.

"Oh, she's upstairs with Tubbs. They're gaming. So they'd notice you only if you'd turn off their TV." Brittany chuckled and shook her head. Quinn just nodded and they made their way upstairs.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Brittany asked when they were in the bathroom. Quinn nodded. "Okay, good. Well, you know where your clean clothes are. I'll be in the kitchen."

They had sleepovers from time to time at Brittany's. That's why there always were some of Quinn and Kathy stuff.

Brittany was about to stepped out of the bathroom when she looked back at Quinn. "I'm glad you're here, Q. We'll figure it out." She smiled gently and went to the kitchen.

Quinn was grateful that her friend didn't ask any questions. She sighed heavily, took her clothes off and got into the tub.

Brittany was sipping her hot chocolate when she saw Quinn was walking to her.

"Hey. Are you going somewhere?"

Quinn was wearing a simple but an elegant yellow dress. "Actually yes. I am."

Brittany looked at her questioningly but just nodded pressing her lips together.

"A Police Detective gave me an address where I can find a lawyer. I haven't so much time, that's why I should go now." The blonde explained.

"What about bacon?" Brittany quirked an eyebrow.

"Uh…" Quinn hesitated. "Just one slice."

"Yay! That's my girl."

"Britt, thank you for not asking me your questions. I trust you, I do, but it's just-"

"That's okay, Q. I understand. You can tell me whenever you're ready." Brittany interrupted her. "I can tell Kathy you're staying with us, right?"

"Yeah, sure. I went to her after I had a shower. She barely paid attention to me and continued to fiddle with a controller." The woman chuckled.

"Told ya." Brittany said with a toothy grin.

"Yeah. Uhm, B, I gotta go."

"Okay, do you need me to go with you?"

"Oh no. I'm fine." Quinn pushed back her chair and stood up. As she was about to open the front door Brittany called her out.

"Q, wait."

Brittany walked to her pushing some cash into her hand. Quinn looked confused but Brittany just rolled her eyes playfully.

"You need some money for taking a cab." She explained.

"Oh, right."

Brittany turned away making her way to the kitchen when Quinn cleared her throat.

"Thanks, Britt. For everything." She said quietly.

"Anytime." The young woman smiled.

Quinn sighed and stepped outside.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Quinn asked a cab man.

"Yes, ma'am. Absolutely."

"Okay". She handed him some money and got out of the car.

Quinn was standing in front of the bar. It called Holliday Bar. She didn't expect to meet hers future-possible lawyer in the bar. She shrugged and stepped in.

Although it was a weekday there was quite crowded. She looked around. The bar was divided into three zones and each zone had its own color. Quinn saw booths, there were a white tables and a purple small couches. All booths were located in a way that people could perfectly see the small stage and the dancefloor. That area was colored in red and black. When Quinn took another glance at the stage she noticed something like a haze around it. There was something mysterious and she was fascinated by it. Finally Quinn looked in the bar counter direction, it was bright pink. Despite the ridiculous combination of colors this place looked cozy. That's right, a cozy bar. She shook her head and went to the bartender.

"Hola, chica. What can I get you?" The tall blonde asked smiling widely. Her long hair was up in a ponytail and it made her smile look bigger. Quinn couldn't help herself and smiled back.

"Hi, Bellini please." She answered.

"Wow, are you trying to impress me?" The bartender narrowed her eyes playfully.

Quinn chuckled. "No. Why?"

"Well, I can't remember when there was the last time someone ordered a Bellini." Then she leaned closer to Quinn. "Frankly, I don't think anyone ordered it at all." She whispered and winked.

"But you do know how to make it, right?"

"Ah, I'm almost offended." The bartender gasped.

Quinn was staring at her in amaze. That woman seemed a bit crazy, but in a good way.

"So why you're here? I haven't seen you before." Quinn snapped out of her daze as the tall blonde asked her and handed a cocktail.

"Uh, actually I'm looking for someone." She answered and took a sip. "Oh my God! It tastes amazing!" She exclaimed.

The bartender grinned at her toothy. "Why thank you." She bowed.

Quinn chuckled. She couldn't stop smiling since she started talking to that woman. "I think I understand now why it calls Holliday Bar."

"Are you flirting with me?" The bartender asked quirking an eyebrow.

Quinn's eyes widened. "What? No! It's just like you're the happiest person and you radiate happiness to the world. Well, the second happiest person because I already know one. Ugh, I sounded stupid."

"Maybe, but I get it. Thanks. And don't worry, I was just kidding." The tall blonde winked. "So, you said you were looking for someone. Can I help you?"

"Actually yes, I hope so. Because I have no idea what that person looks like. I was just told I could find her here." Quinn answered.

"Okay. Let's see if I know who you're talking about."

"Her name is Santana Lopez."

The woman in front of her kept smiling but something changed in her expression.

"Okay…"

"Do you know her? I just really need to find her." Quinn said desperately.

"Yeah, I do. And you're lucky because she's here tonight." The bartender said as the young woman sat on the bar stool next to Quinn. "Speaking of the devil…" The tall blonde looked to the left turning her attention to that woman. "Hey, Sweet lips. Someone is looking for you."

Quinn glanced at the right and there was the young Latina who looked up from her phone staring at the bartender.

"Huh?" The Latina asked.

"Santana Lopez?" Quinn said.

"Yeah…" The young woman answered looking confused at Quinn.

"A lawyer?"

"Yes…"

"Uh, hello. My name is Quinn. I really need to talk to you. Could you plea-"

"I know who you are." The Latina interrupted her. "But the person who told you to look me here must really hate you."

"What? Why?" Quinn asked bluntly. "Uh, quite opposite actually. I mean that woman was so kind to me. And she didn't even have to help me."

"Oh, and she didn't help." The Latina started getting angry.

"Santana…" The bartender said.

"What, Holly?! Everybody knows I hate all these business talks when my work day is over. So don't you dare to give me that look." She snapped. "Who told you that you could find me here?" The lawyer asked Quinn angrily.

"D-detective…Detective Berry."

"Ugh, that dwarf! How she even knows that place address? I mean she's always training her whale when she's not at work." Santana grumbled.

"She s-said you're the best." Quinn stuttered. She was scared a little.

"Because I am." The Latina stated matter-of-factly.

The bartender smiled and shook her head.

"Look, I'm sorry. But you said you knew who I am. And I guess you know about my, uh, situation. And I really need your help. Please… I don't kn-"

"Not here." Santana cut her off harshly. "Tomorrow morning, my office." She put her business card on the bar counter. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight." She stood up and went to exit. "I'll see you tomorrow, Holly!" She called the bartender over her shoulder.

"Sure thing, Hot stuff! Drive safe!" The tall blonde called back. "Do you want another one?"She was talking to Quinn now.

"Uh, no thanks. Is she always like that?"

"Like what?" Holly asked amused.

"I don't know… The fierce one?"

"Oh, believe me, it was nothing. But yeah, almost." The tall blonde smiled dreamily. "You're really lucky…uh, Quinn?" The other woman nodded. "Quinn, I'll tell you one thing about Santana Lopez that you should know. No business talks in her free time. And I mean it." Holly sighed and shook head.

* * *

It was getting late and Brittany began to worry because Quinn hasn't had come home yet. A thousand questions were flashing through her head, but only Quinn could answer it. The doorbell snapped her out of her haze and Brittany darted toward the door.

"So? Did you find that woman?" She asked when Quinn came in.

"Yeah, I did." Quinn answered as she sat on the couch. "Do you know something about Holliday Bar?"

Brittany looked at her questioningly but answered. "I do. Some of my co-workers are always talking about that place. It's like their favorite bar and as far as I know, they all have a crush on a singer there."

"A singer? I haven't seen any." Quinn said musingly.

Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "Wait, you were in the bar? I thought you were looking for a lawyer." She was confused.

"Mhmm. At Holliday Bar."

Brittany chuckled.

"Yeah, I know. It's weird, isn't it?" Quinn asked.

Her friend nodded. "So, is she really that good as that Detective told you?"

"Looks like that. But she's so, uhm, I can't still find the right word." The blonde wondered. "Harsh? Yeah, maybe that would be right."

"Well, I think it's a good thing for a lawyer."

"It is. She scared me a little." Quinn admitted quietly. "Anyway, I have a meeting tomorrow morning in her office."

"That's great, Q!" The young woman hugged her friend. "It means she'll take your case?"

"I hope so." The blonde said unsurely.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm sure it's gonna be okay." Brittany squeezed Quinn's shoulder comforting. "Do you need something? It's pretty late and I have morning rehearsing, so I'm going to bed."

"No-no, I'm fine." Quinn said. "I'm going to check Kathy and then go to sleep too."

"Oh, okay. She and Tubbs are sleeping already."

"That cat of yours. I don't understand how it possible to sleep with him. He is so huge that he needs all bed for himself." Quinn said chuckling.

"Hey! That's mean, Q." Brittany swatted her arm lightly. "Lord Tubbington is the best cuddle buddy ever. He's like a stuffed animal, so soft."

"Yeah, don't forget about huge and heavy." Quinn looked at Brittany who was pouting. "Oh no, don't give me that pout."

Brittany sighed. "You and Kathy can stay here as long as you want to. You're having your own rooms in that house for God's sake." She said smiling. "Okay, I'm going to bed now. Goodnight." She kissed Quinn on the cheek and stood up.

"Goodnight, Britt. You're the best friend ever."

"Duh, tell me something I don't know." Brittany winked and went upstairs.

* * *

Quinn was chewing her lower lip nervously as the reception guy was leading her to Santana Lopez office. She inhaled a deep breath and steeped in as he opened the door.

"Good morning, Ms. Fabray-Walcott." The lawyer got up off the chair and walked to Quinn to shake her hand. "Take a seat please." The Latina offered pointing on the chair.

"Good morning, Ms. Lopez. And, please, call me Quinn." The blonde said nervously. She was taken aback a little. The today Santana was all professional and calm. It felt like she was talking to the different person.

"Okay. And it's Santana. We are not in a courtroom yet, so no need to be all formal." The Latina answered.

"Okay."

"So, Quinn. If I understand you correctly, you want to hire me as your lawyer." Quinn nodded. "Okay. I have to say that I'm not defending people who I don't want to defend." The blonde looked at her confused. "I mean all bastards who are trying to escape a justice." Santana explained. "Here is the deal. I'm not your lawyer yet, so you won't tell me the details. All clear so far?"

"Yes." Quinn nodded again.

"Good. As far as I know, you're the only one presumptive criminal. Is it so?"

"Yes, it is." The blonde confirmed.

"Okay, good. Also I know you were the one who called 911. And you told the operator that you killed your husband." Quinn nodded weakly. "It's completely wrong that that tape hit media though." Santana said it more to herself and shook her head.

"Is it that bad?"

"I'm not going to lie, Quinn. Your situation is not easy at all. Your husband was a powerful man. He created a very positive image. Mr. Walcott hasn't been seen in scandals, also the public knew and still knows him as an exemplary family man." Santana stated. "Press and media are not a good thing as well."

Quinn looked like she was going to cry.

"No need to cry, Quinn. What's done is done. And let me add, if those marks on your neck are related to what has happened, I highly recommend you to go to the hospital where they can examine you. Only if you didn't do it yet." Santana said tranquilly.

"I didn't."

"Than you should. I don't think they'll find particles of human tissue though, but even a simple medical report can help. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do." The blonde answered quietly.

"Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water or something?" The Latina asked softly.

"No, thanks. I'm okay."

"Good. Normally, my potential clients do not contact me directly. So I always have a pretty clear idea about them before I can accept or reject them." Santana looking straight into Quinn's eyes so the blonde was shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "However, your situation astounds me. And I'm not talking about People case now." Quinn looked confused. "I'm talking about the person who recommends you to come to me." The lawyer explained.

"Detective Berry?"

"Yes. You see, Quinn, that woman is annoying like a hell. She obsessed with rules and I'm pretty sure that she sleeps cuddling with Constitution of the United States or something."

"When I asked her about the right to a phone call she gave me a lecture that it's a privilege and not the right."

"That's what I mean." Santana rolled her eyes and smiled a little. "Which is why I have no idea what you've done so she acted unprofessional. I don't think she would have told you more than _'You should contact a criminal defense attorney '_ even if you'd offer her a private Barbra Streisand concert. Could you tell me what it was so I can make fun of her?" Santana raised an eyebrow looking expectantly at the blonde in front of her.

"I, uh, I don't know. She just-"

"I'm kidding, Quinn." The Latina interrupted her. "Okay, I know all I wanted to."

"And?" The blonde was fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"I'm in." The lawyer answered.

"Oh my God! Thank you! Thank you so much!" It was like she could breathe again. Quinn felt that everything is going to be alright when Santana agreed to defend her.

"I haven't done anything yet." The Latina smiled gently. "You should thank Detective Berry, though."

"Okay."

"And no more business talks in my free time." Santana said more sternly but still smiling.

"I promise!" The blonde exclaimed.

"Great. When you have to go to Police? You didn't tell anything them, right?"

"Oh no, I didn't. I told them I won't say a word without a lawyer." Santana nodded approvingly. "And it's tomorrow at one o'clock in the afternoon."

"That's perfect." The lawyer said as she took her phone. "Kurt, I need the evidence from Quinn Fabray-Walcott case." She hung up and looked up at Quinn. "Quinn, you shouldn't discuss your case with anyone. Am I clear?"

"You are."

"Perfect. Well, that's all for today. I'll see tomorrow in Police." She said and stood up pushing her chair back. "Now go to Kurt on reception to resolve financial issues."

"Uh, financial issues?" The blonde stood up too.

"Yes. I'm not working for free." Santana frowned confused.

"But Detective Berry didn't tell anything about, uh, she-" The woman stuttered. "How much?"

"Well, it's not cheap."

"I'm, uh, I'm afraid I can't afford it." Quinn said almost inaudibly.

Santana sighed. "I'm sorry, Quinn. But I can't defend you for free."

"No, I get it. I just, uhm, I'm sorry for wasting your time." She answered sadly.

"I am really sorry, Quinn. You don't have to pay for that consultation, but you need to find another lawyer."

"Thank you." Quinn whispered. "Goodbye, Santana." She turned to the door.

"Good luck, Quinn."

* * *

Quinn was helping Kathy with her homework when the phone got off.

"Hello? The Pierce residence."

"Hey, Q! It's me. I wanted to say I'll come home late tonight." Brittany was breathing heavily.

"Oh, is everything okay?"

"Yeah! Great, actually. I just don't know when rehearsal will end."

"Okay."

"How did your meeting go?"

"Uhm, it seems like she really knows what to do."

"Will she defend you in court?"

"Uh, no. I can't afford it." Quinn said quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Q. Is there something I could do?"

"No-no. You already did more than enough."

"If you say so… Hey, I gotta go. See you later if you'll still be up."

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

Quinn didn't sleep well last night so she felt completely exhausted at morning. Brittany told her she'll take Kathy to school and then she had some business that she needs to care. She wished Quinn a good luck and went to take her car.

Quinn arrived at the Police station and was carried into the interrogation room. Few minutes later two Detectives stepped in.

"Hello, Ms. Fabray-Waclott." Detecitve Berry said as she sat on the chair.

"Ms. Fabray-Walcott." Detective Karofsky nodded and sat next to his partner.

"Uh, hello." Quinn was so nervous.

"Well, let's start, shall we?" The man said. "Tell us the clear story of what happened that day, during your husband's death."

Quinn inhaled a deep breath and was about to tell what happened, but the familiar voice interrupted her.

"Tsk, Karofsky… I see you can't wait to go to work in archive. Even poor students know that once a suspect asks for an attorney, the police are prohibited from asking him or her any additional questions until an attorney is present."

Quinn snapped her head and couldn't believe her eyes.

"I- uh, I don't- uh-" The man stuttered.

"Hmmm, maybe I shouldn't be so worry if you'll be stuttering during an interrogation. Ah wait, I know! Berry is the one who's always doing all work. Am I right?" The woman mocked.

Detective Berry pressed her lips together trying to hide her smile.

Quinn wanted to cry and laugh at the same time as Santana Lopez took a seat next to her.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, who wants to start?" Santana asked after Quinn recounted the events of that day. The lawyer looked at Detective Berry then at Detective Karofsky.

"Okay." The man said. "Ms. Fabray-Walcott, you were telling us about a knife. I should say your fingerprints were found on it. Can you, please, confirm it?

The Latina scoffed. "What? You're not serious, are you? You don't need my client to confirm it, due to the fact that she already told you that she hit her husband with _that_ knife in the chest." She was staring at the Detective. "You don't have to answer that question." Santana said turning to Quinn. The blonde nodded mutely.

"Detective Berry, maybe it's your turn, since your partner there is just trying my patience." The lawyer looked at the woman who was wearing a police uniform.

"Yes, sure." The Detective looked at Quinn. "You said your husband was drunk that day, we need to check it out, so we could know if you told us the true-"

"What?!" Santana interrupted her. "This report clearly states that you have found an empty bottle of whiskey on the kitchen island, and there were his fingerprints. I mean, on that bottle. Also you have found fragments of broken glass on the floor. So please, don't tell me that you're trying to say that you haven't examined the Mr. Walcott body for alcohol in his blood. It's just ridiculous!" She was getting angry.

"Uh, Ms. Lopez, stay calm, please. It's just a peculiar case, which we deal with. There was killed not just some unknown person. Mr. Walcott was playing an important role in the political sphere. The Government is closely monitoring this case." Detective Berry answered nervously.

"Oh my God, Rachel! Do you even hear yourself? I don't care who he was. First of all, he was a human, and all people are equal in the eyes of the law. So don't you dare to tell me, that you're going to put an innocent person in jail just because a dead man was playing so important role in the political sphere." Latina was disappointed.

"It's just he was known like an exemplary family man. We don't know how the public will perceive the information that he was abusing alcohol and beating his wife." The short brunette said weakly and bowed her head in shame.

Santana stared at her, dumbfounded. "I told you, I don't care. My client is known as a loving wife and caring mother as well. She has never been seen in scandals. She hadn't even been in the worst-dressed-people list, for God's sake!" She exclaimed crossly. "I won't let you to pin a voluntary manslaughter on Ms. Fabray-Walcott. She's not guilty. And we all know she should be charged with involuntary manslaughter!" The Latina took a deep breath before continued. "So, I insist on a _full_ autopsy!" She stood up, pushing back her chair and leaned across the table. "I'll fucking jump out of my skin, but I'll get justice." Santana hissed, glaring at the Detectives. The man swallowed dryly while his partner avoided eye contact with a lawyer. "I guess, we're done." Santana said harshly. "Ms. Fabray-Waclott." She turned to Quinn. The blonde shoot up from her chair and walked to the door with Santana followed behind. "Oh, and Berry." The lawyer looked back at the woman. "You owe me." She said calmly and walked out of the interrogation room.

"Uh, Santana?" Quinn looked at her lawyer timidly. "Thank you." She said quietly.

"Just doing my job." The Latina shrugged, smiling a little. "I don't know, how about you, but I had enough for today, so let's get out of here."

"Yeah, but there is something-"

"What is it, Quinn?"

"Isn't it too late to do an autopsy?" She remembered suddenly.

"Oh, don't worry. They already did it. Trust me. We just have to wait until they give us a report."

"Okay…"

"It there something else you want to talk about?"

"I wasn't home since, well, you know." She whispered. "And all my stuff there, even my phone. And Kathy stuff, too."

"Kathy?"

"My daughter."

"Oh, okay." Santana nodded. "Wait, where are you living then, if you wasn't at home since that day?"

"We live at my friend's. She is the best person in the world. I don't think I could back home yet."

"Okay. So, I understand it, you need to get your stuff." The blonde nodded. "Uh, do you need a ride or something?"

"Oh, no. Thanks. It's just…the door was sealed off with police tape and I don't know, if I'm allowed to go in."

"The front door?" Santana asked bluntly.

"Well, yeah. I haven't seen it, but my friend told me that. Why? Is it weird?"

"A little. All-" She coughed. "-important events happened in the kitchen, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't get it, why it was necessary to seal off the whole house. Usually, they do it only with the crime scene and sometimes they don't even seal it off at all." The lawyer was wondering.

"Oh, okay. But can I go there? I mean, in my house. I just want to take my and Kathy stuff."

"Sure. Do you want to go right now?"

"No, I want to go home first. I mean, to Brittany's."

Quinn saw how something indecipherable flashed through Santana's eyes, but didn't pay attention to it.

"But if you don't mind. I mean, if you're not too busy. Uh, what I'm trying to say-"

"Just tell me, Quinn." The Latina interrupted her.

"Could you go with me? Well, I mean, we don't have to drive together. You can just meet me there." She said coyly.

"Sure." The young woman breathed out a laugh. "Today?"

"Yes, if your business can wait a little."

"You are my business now." Santana answered simply. "Well, I'll go to find out what's the deal with your house, but you can go now. There is no need for you to staying here anymore. Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." The blonde assured. "I'll call you. And, uh, thank you one more time, Santana. I don't know what made you to change your mind, but whatever it was, I'm immensely grateful to it." The Latina stared at her confused and was about to say something, but Quinn already turned around and walked to the exit.

* * *

Brittany was nervously walking in circles around the living room. She didn't know how much time an interrogation normally takes, but was guessing Quinn should back soon. The young woman desperately wanted to help, but she didn't know how. Brittany stopped in her tracks as she heard the door lock clicked. She turned around and was knocked down on the ground.

"Oomph!" Someone's strands of blond hair fell in front of her face as the person was hugging her tightly.

"She was there!" The person exclaimed.

"Quinn, is it you?"

"Of course it's me! Who else could it be?" The blonde was so happy.

"Right. I'm really glad to see you so happy, but could you try next time not to jump on me like that? The opening night is only a few days away, so I have to be careful." She wrapped her arms around Quinn's back.

"Ouch, sorry, B. I didn't think about it." The blonde stood up, holding out her hand to Brittany.

"Thanks. Now tell me, why you are so happy and who was there? Ugh, and where?"

They held each other's hands and started to spinning around, jumping up a little. "I'm happy, because my lawyer-" She jumped up higher. "-woah, she's incredible!" Brittany was totally confused, but if Quinn was jumping like that, then it was more than just good. So she just went with it.

"You should have seen her, Britt! Santana was amazing and the cops couldn't even ask me a question!" Brittany stumbled and let go of Quinn's hands to keep herself from falling down on the ground again.

"Santana?" She frowned.

"Oh, yeah. Santana Lopez. She's my lawyer." Quinn said. "Look, B, I need to go to my house."

"What? Why?" The young woman asked worriedly.

"Nothing special, I just want to get my and Kathy stuff. It's not like I have a closet full of my clothes here. And I want my phone back, too. Uh, Britt, could you go with me? You know, bags can be really heavy…"

Brittany chuckled. "Sure, when?"

"I want to take a shower first and then we can go."

"Uhm, Q. It's not a problem at all, but I need to go to the theatre…it's really quick though. Okay?"

"Hmmm. Here is the deal. You'll go to the theatre and I'll take a cab. And you'll come after finish your business."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am!" The blonde said cheerfully. "I'll see you later." She kissed Brittany on the cheek and ran upstairs.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Santana asked.

"I am." Quinn answered nervously.

"Okay." She opened the front door Quinn's house. "Wow…"

"Thanks." The blonde looked around inside her own house. All things were in place, nothing has changed, but it seemed empty and lifeless now. "I'll be upstairs."

"Okay. I'll go to the kitchen, don't you mind?"

"No, do whatever you want to." Quinn hurried upstairs. She wanted to back at Brittany's.

Santana stepped into the kitchen. She saw some fruits on the floor, near to the frig. The Latina was trying to imagine the scene, which Quinn described earlier. There was no way she could push away a healthy man, who was clutching her throat with both hands.

"Santana!" She snapped out of her thoughts, when she heard Quinn's voice.

She made her way upstairs and saw the blonde was looking out of the room. "What's wrong?"

"What I can take?" Quinn was chewing her lower lip.

"Anything. Your clothes are not related to an accident."

"An accident?"

"Yes. You didn't want to kill him, did you?"

"Oh God, no! Of course I didn't. It's just all of them say crime or murder, or something else." She whispered.

"You're not a murderer."

"Why do you believe me?"

"Because I know, what they are look like."

"I didn't tell Kathy yet. My family is in the center of scandal now and I don't want to drag my daughter in it." She shook her head.

"You have to tell her, Quinn. It would be wrong, if she finds out from someone else."

"Yeah, I know. But it's not that simple, you know? I mean, I have to tell my daughter that I killed her daddy." She sighed heavily.

"Quinn, look at me. It was a self-defense. It's not your fault." Santana said sternly.

"But what if he'd realise and let me go just a few seconds later?"

"And what if not? You can't live like that, Quinn. You should move on, or guilt will drive you insane." The blonde nodded. "Do you need my help?"

"There is a bag in my bedroom. Could you get it, please?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." She looked as Santana walked out of the room and took the phone. "Hey, Britt. Are you coming or I should take a cab?"

"No-no, I'm almost here."

"Okay, wait outside."

"Yes, ma'am."

Quinn hung up, took a last glance at Kathy's room and stepped out.

"Hey, all packed?" Santana walked over to her.

"Yeah, we can go now."

"Great."

They walked out of the house and Quinn immediately went to Brittany, who met her on the halfway while Santana was locking the front door.

"Are you ready, Q?"

"Yeah." Quinn answered and looked back at Santana, who was two feet away behind her. The Latina was fiddling with the keys of her car before looked up. She saw Brittany in front of her and narrowed her eyes.

"Ms. Pierce." She said calmly.

"Ms. Lopez." Brittany answered through gritted teeth.

Quinn didn't notice it, because she was busy trying to remember if she got all she needed to. She snapped out of her thoughts when someone coughed.

"Uh, Britt. This is Santana Lopez, my lawyer." Then she looked at the Latina. "Santana, this is Brittany, my best friend."

Santana looked back and forth between Quinn and Brittany, totally confused. The blonde then elbowed her friend and Brittany glanced up at Santana, reluctantly holding out her hand. The lawyer was staring at the hand and then it clicked. She made eye contact with Brittany.

"Ah…" Santana grinned smugly. "So, you didn't tell her."


	5. Chapter 5

"Jesus Christ, Brittany! I can't believe you called Santana a prostitute!"

* * *

_Flashback_

Brittany was really tired after rehearsal. In that moment, her biggest wish was back home into her comfy bed. Unfortunately, fate had another plans. Or not fate, but Brittany. She knew, what she was about to do, was a big adventure. But if there was a chance, the woman was determined to use it. She came out of the shower, put her sweatpants and hoodie on, said a good bye to her co-wokers and left the theater building. Brittany knew she was undressed, but there was no way she'd back home to change.

The young woman parked in the right place and got out of the car. It was pretty late, but she didn't lose hope. Brittany put her hand on the door handle and pushed it open. Not wasting her time, she walked straight to the bar counter.

"Hi, could you-"

"Hush, Sweet cheeks. Whatever you want, I bet it can wait a few minutes." The bartender cut her off, looking somewhere over her shoulder. Brittany sighed and turned around to see, what so interesting was behind her back.

As she did that, the music stopped and the lights went out all over the bar. Only the spotlight was shining on the retro-microphone and bar stool next to it on the stage, which was in something like haze. A few moments later, Brittany noticed a figure approaching the microphone. As the person sat on the bar stool, she saw it was a woman with a wavy long hair. Brittany couldn't take a better glance, because she was quite far from the stage, but she could tell that the woman was definitely beautiful. Without a word, that woman turned her head back a little and nodded slightly. As soon as she did that, the music began to play, and Brittany noticed the musicians, who were sitting behind the mysterious singer.

Brittany's jaw dropped as that woman started singing. It was a slow jazz song, probably 70-80s, and her low, velvety voice was amazing. Brittany immediately thought that it would sound perfect on vinyl. She was watching in awe, not blinking, because she didn't want to miss a single detail. Once the song ended, the singer gave a small, barely perceptible nod to the audience and left the stage. Brittany was still looking there in fascination. Someone tapped her slightly on the shoulder, cutting off of her stupor. She spun around.

"Hey, sorry. It's sort of an unwritten rule here, when she sings." The blonde at the bar counter said. "So, you wanted to say something?"

"Breathtaking." Brittany breath out, her eyes were still wide open.

The woman chuckled. "She is, isn't she?" Brittany just stared bluntly off into space, still under the impression. "Sooo, can I get you anything?"

"Uh, orange juice, please." She finally looked at the bartender as someone accidentally bumped into her shoulder slightly.

"Orange juice?" The bartender quirked an eyebrow.

"Yup, I'm driving."

"Alright, Sweet cheeks." The tall blonde said, handing a drink to the person, who was sitting next to Brittany. "So, what brings you here? I guess you weren't going to be here tonight. Or?"

"Oh no! I wasn't. I was at work and then something came up."

The bartender looked at her questioningly. "Hmm, must be an interesting job with a dress code like yours."

"I'm a dancer." Brittany smiled proudly. "I had rehearsal tonight, so there was no need to be all dressed up."

"I get it." The bartender nodded. "Well, may I ask why you're here then?"

"Actually, I'm looking for someone. I just don't know who exactly." The woman at the bar counter was watching her in amuse. "My friend Quinn, she was here yesterday. And she-" The person who was sitting next to Brittany choked on their drink, causing the girl to turn her head to the right. The bartender looked in the same direction worriedly.

Brittany held her breath. Next to her was sitting that mysterious singer. She was wearing a fabulous pair of high-heels, jeans and a white tank-top with a black blazer over it. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders elegantly. Brittany looked up. Finally she was close enough to see the details of her face, her naturally tanned skin, her plump red lips. The dancer gulped as she met the brunette's eyes. A pair of deep brown eyes was staring straight into Brittany's. "Wow…" She breathed out.

The brunette frowned.

"Seriously, Santana? Two hot blondes for two days? Should I get jealous now?" The bartender scolded playfully, trying to ease the tension in the air.

"Huh?" The young woman finally tore her gaze from Brittany and looked at the bartender.

"The one, who looked like she walked out from some retro-movie. And-and the other one…oh God, just look at her! Sweatpants, a hoodie, a messy ponytail, but she still looks gorgeous. And her eyes! I mean, my eyes are blue, but she has the most piercing blue eyes that I have ever seen in my life!" Then she turned to Brittany. "Contacts?" The woman asked, narrowing.

"Uh, no." Brittany blushed.

"Wow. And moreover, she's a dancer!" The bartender exclaimed. "A good one?" She looked at Brittany again.

"I, uh, well, I'm okay."

"See! I totally should get jealous." The woman joked.

"I'm sorry, but I'm really tired-"

"Maybe you should go home then?" The brunette cut Brittany off.

She was taken aback by harsh words. "Uh, I have to find someone first."

"Yeah-yeah, I got it. Your friend Quinn was talking to someone yesterday and you want to find this person. Why? What do you want from her?" The brunette asked angrily.

"D-do you know her?"

"I am that person!" The girl snapped. "Oh dear Lord, why? I didn't do anything wrong, so why I can't relax after work for the second day in a row!" She exclaimed, before gushing out a stream of angry Spanish that Brittany couldn't understand.

"I doubt it. Well, maybe she talked to you, too. But I need that one who is a lawyer."

"Still the same person." The brunette said louringly.

"But you're a singer. And…and you're young!" Brittany stared at her bluntly.

"Look, Blondie." Santana sighed. "I don't know who you were expecting to see, and, actually, I don't care about it at all. Just tell me, what do you want and back off. Or just back off. Drink up your fucking orange juice and go ask your mommy to read you a bedtime story. Or what? Do you need a kiss goodnight? Whatever you want, just leave me alone."

The dancer looked confused. She couldn't understand why that woman was so rude. However, she decided not to pay attention to all those words. "So, you're a lawyer. I'm Brittany, Brittany S. Pierce." She said, holding out her hand for shaking hands.

Santana looked down at the hand then back at Brittany. "Whatever."

Brittany glanced at the bartender, but she just smiled sympathetically. "Uh, Quinn told me you're not going to defend her in the courtroom."

"Because I don't do my work for free." The lawyer said dryly.

"That's why I'm here! I can pay." Brittany beamed.

"Oh, that's so sweet." Santana's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm afraid that even if you'd sell your Barbie dolls collection, it still wouldn't be enough."

"But I haven't a Barbie dolls collection." The blonde gave her a puzzled look.

"Then I don't know what we're talking about! You're just wasting my time, Blondie." Santana continued to mock.

"Hey, I don't understand your attitude. You're supposed to be happy, aren't you? I have money and you have a work to do. Shouldn't you be more polite to me?" Brittany started getting angry.

"Hmmm, let me think about it…" Santana tapped her chin, then nodded and said, "Nah." She rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Huh?" The dancer didn't expect that.

"You have no right to dictate to me what to do and what not to do." The brunette answered harshly and walked towards the exit door.

"Wait!" Brittany was desperate.

"What?" The Latina snapped.

"I just want to help my friend." The blonde was close to tears.

"So what? What is your plan, Blondie? I don't know how it works on your magical work, but I have an office where I'm talking about business. Does this place looks like my office?"

"No, but I don't know where you're working at."

"Tsk, you have a computer, don't you? If you need me that much, you'll find a way."

"I don't even know how to turn on it." Brittany said sadly. She heard as the bartender chuckled behind her back. Santana, on the other hand, just looked questioningly at her.

"Well, too bad for your friend then." She shrugged her shoulders and made her way to the door.

Brittany sighed heavily and turned to the bar counter. She looked hurt.

"Oh God. You weren't kidding, right?"

"No." The dancer whispered.

"Aw, I'm so sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to laugh." The woman said sincerely. "Hey, look at me. I thought you were kidding."

"No, it's not that. Why she was so rough and arrogance? I have no idea how to find her. I don't even know her name!" She exclaimed wearily.

"Well, her name is Santana Lopez. And she's not that bad as you think. It's just she has to deal with many things." The bartender explained. "Oh, and I'm Holly." She said, holding out her hand.

"Brittany." The dancer answered, shaking their hands.

"It's very nice to meet you, Brittany." Holly said cheerfully. "Hmm, Brittany S. Pierce…why it sounds so familiar?"

"I, uh, I don't know. I haven't met you before." The young blonde blushed.

"Well, maybe I've seen you somewhere?" Holly narrowed her eyes.

Brittany shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked away.

"Anyway, I'll help you. I was talking to your friend, too. It seems like she really needs, uhm, legal help. So I'll give you a Santana's office address." She winked.

"Thank you. Is she really that good? Because I don't know…she's so young."

"Oh no, she is the best."

"You're saying that just because she's your friend."

"Hey, it's not some kind of sect, where we make you believe us, give your money and then we disappear." The bartender was serious.

"Well, how do you know then?"

"I was her first." She said shrugging.

Brittany's eyes widened.

"Whoa, someone has a dirty mind." Holly laughed as the young blonde blushed. "I meant, I was her first case. She was my defending attorney. That's how I know."

"You've been charged with a crime?"

"Uh, well. I was working at one popular bar. I've been a bartender as well. Ugh, long story short, I have been accused of stealing money. Santana just had graduated from the university and was working for my asshole-lawyer. I mean, I made enough money and could afford a good lawyer. But who knew he'll be an asshole. It was a really big case, you know? So Santana was his assistant or something. The truth is, she was the one who dealt with my case. As for my lawyer, I've seen him only in the courtroom. It sucked. So I decided to take a risk and fired him. Then I asked Santana to be my lawyer, she agreed and I hired her. I had one foot in jail, so if she couldn't save me, then no one could do it. Oh God, I was so scared." Holly shook her head. "But my trial ended, when the jury returned a unanimous Not Guilty verdict. She saved me. Also she got large amounts of compensation for me, so I was free and rich. And here I am now."

"Wow…but why you're still working as a bartender then?"

"Oh no, Sweet cheeks. I'm working here, but not as a bartender. I mean, well, yeah, sort of. But I own this place." Holly smiled proudly. "I know, it's lame to name a bar after yourself, but I like the way it sounds." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Wait, your name is Holly Holliday?" Brittany giggled.

"Mhmm, funny, right?" The dancer nodded. "Well, as for Santana, all law firms wanted to get her after the trial ended. Oh, and let me tell you, public prosecutor in my case was a really crazy woman. She's like a legend in their lawyer's world or something. So yeah, all wanted to get Santana."

"Okay…"

"She has the right to choose her clients, it's one of the most important conditions of her contract. I mean, if she doesn't want to defend someone, she won't do that."

"How many cases she has lost?" Brittany was curious.

"She has won all of her cases." The bartender answered proudly.

"Well, it's not that hard if she chooses only innocent people."

"Oh yeah? Then why your friend needs the best lawyer?" Holly quirked an eyebrow.

"Okay, point taken. Uh, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why she's singing here?" Brittany looked confused.

"Ah, that. Well, let's say it helps her to relieve stress. This stage, it's hers. She's the only one who's singing there."

"You're a good friend."

"You're too, if you're still going to meet my little devil tomorrow." Holly smiled softly.

"Ugh, I don't get it, how you can be her friend. She's intolerable." The girl huffed.

"She has rage, but she's not that bad."

"I doubt it. I mean, yes, on the stage she was amazing, but when we were talking, ugh, I can't stand her."

"But you love it, when she sings." The bartender said.

"I don't know, she's like a different person while she's on the stage."

"You'll never know if you never try." Holly said musingly.

* * *

"Hello. I have a meeting with Santana Lopez." Brittany told the guy at the desk.

"Hello, Miss?"

"Pierce. Brittany S. Pierce."

"Do you have an appointment, Ms. Pierce?"

"Uh, no. But she said she does her business in her office."

"Oh, okay. Let me see, if she's not busy." The guy said, picking up the telephone, "Santana, here is Brittany S. Pierce, she said she has a meeting with you." He hung up, "Well, Ms. Pierce, come with me." Brittany nodded, smiling.

He opened the door and Brittany stepped in. She saw Santana was sitting at her desk and talking on speakerphone.

"I'm telling you, Jerry, I'm not going to defend this moron."

"Come on, Santana. It's a lot of money. And he wants you!" A male voice pleaded.

"Well, too bad he has a penis." She scoffed.

Brittany was standing at the door, shifting weight from one foot to the other one.

"Look, Jerry, I have a meeting. And this was my last word. Tell this asshole I said no."

Santana stood up and walked to Brittany. "Good morning, Ms. Pierce." She held out her hand for Brittany to take it.

The blonde looked at the hand in disbelief. "Oh, so today you want to shake my hand."

"Excuse me?" Santana said, letting her hand fall to her side. Two girls stared on each other. "Uhm, take a seat, please."

Brittany sat on the chair as the brunette walked back to her desk. The lawyer took a breath and was about to say something, but the dancer interrupted her.

"Are you gay?" Brittany asked bluntly, remembering Santana's talk on the phone.

The girl was taken aback, she blinked a few times before answered, "I don't know where you're coming from, but yes, I am. Do you have a problem with it?" She asked coldly.

"Oh no! Not at all."

"Okay. So, Ms. Pierce-"

"Huh? Ms. Pierce? What about Blondie? Or today you see that I can pay and it made you more respectful to me?" The blonde started getting angry.

The Latina inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, "I don't need your money, Ms. Pierce."

"Oh no! How so? I just sold all of my Barbie dolls." Brittany's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Santana pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile.

"Do you think it's funny? Do you think if you're a good lawyer then you better than other people? And now you're just laughing at me?"

"No, I don't think so." Santana replied dryly. "I don't get it, what do you want, Ms. Pierce? You came here to start a fight? I don't have time for it."

"Maybe you should just apologize?"

"For what?" She gave Brittany a puzzled look.

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe for you have been rude to a person who did nothing-"

"Oh yeah, what else?" The Latina got pissed off. "It was you who came to the bar. It was you who kept whining while I was trying to relax! It's not like I'm riding on a fucking carousel all day! I need some rest! And there were you, a fucking knight, shoving money in my face! Who do you think I am? I'm not a dog who you can show a bone and I will run around you, wagging my tail!"

"Well, it looks exactly like that today." The blonde mocked.

"What?!"

"Oh, come on, Santana. Yesterday, I was Blondie and today I'm Ms. Pierce."

"Look, I may don't like you, but if I have to work with you, I will treat you in a polite manner."

"It's hypocrisy!" Brittany's eyes widened.

"It calls professionalism, Ms. Pierce." Santana hissed. "I can separate my work from my private life."

"Hmm, I've already heard about something like that." Brittany tapped her chin. "Ah, right! A woman who is disgusted with her clients, but she doesn't show it, doing her job and gets a lot of money for it." She smirked at Santana.

"Did you just compare me to a prostitute?" The Latina narrowed her eyes.

"Well, maybe I did. Ah, fuck it. You're damn right, I did." The blonde answered smugly.

Santana shoot up from her chair and grabbed the edge of her desk, "Get out." She was shaking with anger.

"Huh?"

"I said get the fuck out of my office!" She growled.

_End flashback_

* * *

"Oh my… Britt?" Quinn was staring at her friend in disbelief as they were sitting on the couch in Brittany's house.

"I don't know, Q. It's just this woman. I can't stand her." She sunk further into the couch.

"She's not that bad, B."

"Oh stop it! Why all keep telling me that?" The dancer huffed.

"Who?"

"You, the bartender Holly."

"Oh, so you met Holly?" Quinn smiled.

"Yup, she's nice."

"She is." Quinn agreed. "So, Santana kicked you out of her office, but she came to the Police station. I don't get it…"

"Oh, well yeah. I stormed out, slamming the door. And there was that guy Kurt. He said that obviously it didn't go well, but he assured me not to worry. We talked a little and he mentioned your case, saying that he didn't give it to Santana yet. Long story short, we have resolved financial issues and I went home. I didn't think she'd go to the interrogation. I mean yes, I paid, but I thought I screwed it up." Brittany explained.

"See, she's not that bad." Her friend said, smiling.

"Or she loves money too much." The girl replied dryly.

"Britt!" Quinn slapped her shoulder slightly. "Anyway, we need to celebrate the fact that I have a lawyer now. The best one. And I'm so grateful to you, B. You didn't have to-"

"Of course I have to. You'd do the same for me." She rested her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"Without a doubt." Quinn sighed. "Well, I called Pete, he'll stay with Kathy."

"You have to tell her, Q."

"I know. And I'll do it. Tomorrow." The woman said. "And you…you have to apologize to Santana. Tonight."

"What?!" Brittany squealed.

"You heard me. Now go to get ready, because we're going at Holliday Bar."

Brittany groaned and buried her face in Quinn's shoulder.

* * *

**A/N: It was probably my last update in this year. So a very Happy New Year to all! And thank you for reading this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Q, I don't feel good. Can we celebrate another day?" Brittany asked unsurely, when girls stepped into Holliday Bar.

"Brittany, you crossed a line at Santana's office today. And you know that, so come on, Britt, it's important to me. She's my lawyer and I don't want her to hate my best friend. Please."

"Ugh, Quinnie, I can't do that." Brittany whined. "Why should I apologize, when it was her who started it. God, just imagine her smug look. This will give her a reason to mock even more! This girl, she's just unbearable! How can't you understand that?" The dancer stopped as she realized that in the bar was too dark and too quiet. Her eyes immediately shoot in the stage direction. There it was, the spotlight illuminating, a stool and microphone.

"Oh my God, Quinn! Let's go! Santana is going to perform. Come on, hurry up!" The blonde grabbed her arm and dragged to the nearest available seats.

"Huh? Well, I definitely don't understand." Her friend muttered.

As soon as girls sat down, they immediately saw a figure approaching the microphone. The music started and the girl began to sing. Quinn's eyes widened.

"Holy mother of God, Britt! It's Santana!" She whispered as loud as she can. "I didn't know she could sing-"

"Shush you, Q!" Brittany cut her off, not even turning to look at her friend.

Quinn was surprised to see her lawyer on the stage. It would never come into her mind that Santana can sing. It seemed so strange, but at the same time she remembered her first visit in Holliday Bar a few days ago. When she saw an empty stage and was fascinated by it. Now it was like she has found a last piece of puzzle. Quinn was watching Santana's performance, feeling her eyes were pulled like a magnet to the singer. She glanced at Brittany and saw that her friend's lips parted a little, there was a child expression on her face, full of delight and admiration. The dancer was watching the performance, not blinking. Quinn wasn't even sure if her friend was breathing. She thought it was weird. Just a minute ago Brittany was telling her that Santana is unbearable and now she was looking at her like the Latina was the eight wonder of the world. Quinn shook her head and looked back at the stage.

As soon as the song ended, the light came on again. Girls stood up from the couch and quietly walked to the bar counter.

"Mhmm, two hot blondes have decided to visit my little devil tonight. Again." Holly winked at them.

"Hello, Holly." Quinn greeted, smiling.

"Bellini?" The tall blonde asked, smiling back.

"Hmm, okay. I guess I can start with it."

"Alright. And what about you, Sweet cheeks? You aren't driving tonight, are you?" Holly glanced at the other blonde, who stared back at Holly, but it looks like she didn't see and hear her.

"Earth to Brittany." Quinn nudged her friend slightly, snapping her of her stupor. "Are you okay?" She looked at her worriedly.

"Let me guess, it's all about certain brunette, who was singing on that stage just a few minutes ago. Am I right?" Holly teased.

"Is it so?" Quinn was still looking at Brittany, who blushed furiously.

"I'd like a shot of tequila!" The dancer squealed.

"Whoa, you're looking high-strung tonight." The bartender smirked and continued to tease, "So, how did you like Santana's performance?"

Brittany stiffened when she heard the question. She didn't know what to say, and not because she couldn't come up with a good lie, the dancer just didn't understand her own feelings. On the one hand, Brittany couldn't stand the feisty Latina, but on the other hand, the blonde was unable to tear her eyes off Santana when she was singing on the stage. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, making spin around abruptly.

"Mitch? Hey!" Her co-woker was standing in front of her.

"Hi, Brittany! I'm glad to see you here, finally you made it." He smiled and gave her a quick hug.

"Yup, I get it now, why you guys are hanging out here almost every night."

"Exactly. Hey, would you like to join us?"

"Uh, I don't know. I'm with Qu-"

"It's okay. Your friends are our friends." Mitch interrupted her, smiling.

The blonde nodded and looked at Quinn, "Q, what do you think about it?"

Mitch finally paid his attention to the other blonde, who was standing beside Brittany and his smile faltered, "Oh, uhm…hello, Quinn." He said reluctantly. "Didn't think I can meet you…aren't you supposed to be in ja...uh, here?"

Quinn tensed, "Hi, uh, yeah. Britt and I decided to go out tonight and have fun, you know." She answered, noticing the man was looking around as if he was afraid that someone would see him talking to her.

It didn't go unnoticed by Brittany as well, she frowned trying to figure out what's wrong with her co-worker. Almost all people from her work already knew Quinn, and they got along pretty well with each other, including Mitch.

"Here you go, girls!" Holly's voice made them turn to her and she handed them their drinks.

"So…" Mitch said, remembering his offer. He avoided eye contact with each girl, secretly hoping they would refuse.

Brittany glanced back at Quinn, who bowed her head, looking at the floor. The dancer was about to ask Quinn if she was okay, but the familiar voice made Brittany to spin around.

"They already have a company better than yours." Santana stood there, leaning on the bar counter, glaring at the guy. Mitch looked at the Latina and his eyes widened when he realized, who was talking to him.

"I, uh, you're…we-" He was stuttering, "You were amaz-"

"Get lost." Santana cut him off harshly. Seeing the guy still stood, staring at her with his mouth open, she asked, "Are you retarded or something?"

"Yes…I mean, no." Santana quirked an eyebrow as he was trying to talk. "Yeah, I guess I should go. It was nice to see you, Britt." Mitch looked at Brittany and then walked to the booth where his friends were siting.

"Thank you, Santana." Quinn said quietly, looking up from the floor. She elbowed Brittany a few moments later, because her friend was still staring bluntly at the brunette.

"Uh…hello, Santana." The dancer said tensely.

"No big deal." The Latina answered to Quinn, not even glancing at Brittany. Then she turned to Holly, dismissing both girls.

"Britt, go talk to her." Quinn whispered.

"What? Did you see her? She pretends like I don't exist!" The dancer hissed so only Quinn could hear her.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a baby, B!" Quinn shook her head and looked at Holly, "Uhm, Holly, don't you mind to tell me how you're making this Bellini?"

"Sure." The tall blonde took the hint and pulled Quinn away from the girls.

Brittany nervously chewed on her bottom lip, staring at the Latina, who still didn't pay any attention, playing with the straw of her drink. The blonde inhaled deeply and asked shakily, "Uhm, Santana?"

The brunette waited a few seconds before finally turned to Brittany, "What's up, Blondie?"

Brittany frowned at the name, but continued, "Uhm, I-I'd want to, uh-" She was desperately trying to say it, but these words just didn't want to come out from her mouth.

Santana quirked an eyebrow. "What? What do you want?" Seeing that the dancer didn't answer, Santana smirked evilly and Brittany gulped, catching the look. "Me?"

"What?!" Brittany was in shock as she was staring at Santana with her eyes wide open. For a moment Brittany thought she didn't hear it right, but then the brunette smiled at her seductively and began leaning in slowly.

"Well, you know-" The Latina paused, enjoying Brittany's reaction, "-my lips, my body. Inhale the scent of my hair while I kiss your neck and begging for more." She husked into her ear. "Is this what you want, Blondie?" A shiver ran down Brittany's spine when Santana's breath hit her skin. The blonde pressed her lips together and barely suppressed the whimper that almost escaped past her lips. Brittany felt her whole body mesmerized and she shut her eyes tightly, trying to pull herself together. She had no idea what the hell was happening.

Santana pulled away slowly, smiling wickedly. "Aw, don't be shy, Blondie." She said sweetly, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

The dancer was still staring at her, trying to say something, but seemed unable to speak.

"Well? Is this what you need? Because I don't know what else I can offer you with my services when I'm just a hooker." Santana continued, her tone changed from seductive to dangerously cold.

"What?" Brittany gasped, her mouth was dry, but she was glad to finally find her voice.

"Now you're going to pretend that nothing had happening? Wasn't it you, who compared me to a very expensive call girl this morning?" Santana answered flatly.

"A-actually, that's what I'd want to t-talk about-" Brittany was stuttering. Although she saw the sudden change in Santana's behavior, the blonde was still in a half stupor because of her actions a few minutes ago. "-uh, I would like to apologize for-"

"Save it." The lawyer cut her off harshly.

"Excuse me?"

"Ugh, what's wrong with people tonight? Are you deaf or something?" Santana said irritably. "I don't need your apology, so save it."

"But I am really sorry, Sant-"

"No, you're not."

"Stop interrupting me! It's just rude." Brittany started to get angry. She was wondering what the hell was wrong with this girl.

"Says who? It wasn't me who came into your office and called you a whore." The Latina scoffed.

"And I'm trying to apologize here!" The dancer exclaimed. "And if you'd let me to say a damn word-"

"What if I don't need that? What if I don't wanna listen to your lame attempts to say you're sorry?" Santana stood up from the stool and leaned forward so that she was face to face with Brittany, "The people apologize when they realize that their actions were wrong and they felt guilty. So when they say they're sorry, it means that they regret about what they did say or do. And it means that they promise it would never happen again. So cut the shit, Blondie, and don't say you're fucking sorry." Santana snapped before turned away and took her drink.

"You know what? You're right! I'm not sorry." Brittany shoot up from her stool. "Ugh, why you should be so intolerable! I can't believe you just ruined my night. Again!"

"Huh? You are the one who keep stalking me. You are the one who came here to whine when no one was asking you to. What the fuck do you want, Blondie? Is New York too small that you haven't another place where you can go and get drunk?"

"It's not your bar, Santana! Oh, and another thing, if you lose your temper pretty quick and have an anger management problem, you should seek help from a health professional instead of pouring alcohol into your system to cope with your stress every fucking night!" Brittany retorted.

Santana slammed her glass on the bar counter, "What did you just say? So, now I'm not just a whore, but also an alcoholic, right?" She snarled, narrowing her eyes.

"I didn't say that."

"Of course you didn't, Blondie!" The Latina huffed. "You just don't have the guts to say something straight to my face instead of throwing your lame hints."

"Do you really want to know what I think about you? Fine! I hate you. I can't stand beside you and just the mention of your name makes me gag. You're smug, annoying, haughty, rude, unbearable, insolent and…and you're venal. Yes, you are! You love money so much that even after I compared you to a prostitute in your own office, you got up and went to the police for interrogation. You disgusted me. I can't stand the thought that we're breathing in the same air. That's what I think about you!" Brittany was furious.

"You don't know a shit about me!" Santana snarled and lunged at Brittany, when two strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

"Santana, stop." Holly whispered into her ear.

"Don't fucking touch me, Holly." The brunette growled, trying to pull away, but the bartender held her tight.

"Please, calm down, Santana. Don't be silly, it's not worth it." Holly cooed into her ear. "Come on, take a deep breath." The Latina was still trying to free herself from her grasp, but the tall blonde just tightened her grip on her. Santana saw as Quinn walked to Brittany, whose eyes were filled with horror. She took her hand and lead the girl to the bathroom. The brunette followed them with her eyes until they were out of her sight. A few moments later she inhaled deeply and her body relaxed a little.

"Let me go." Santana said weakly.

"Santana." Holly warned.

"Fuck, just let me go, Holly. I'm not going to stalk them like some psycho." The bartender loosened her grip on Santana and she wriggled free.

"Who does she think she is?" The brunette said, more to herself than to Holly.

"Oh come on, Santana, I know you. I bet you told her something. Look at this girl…ah, right, she's not here because someone was going to kick her pretty ass. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that even in the most danger mountain lion she sees just a small cute kitty." Holly said matter of factly.

"What? Don't tell me you're taking her side." Santana crossed her arms and pouted.

"I'm on no one's side. What I'm trying to say is that she acts different around me or Quinn or any other person, well, except you. She's always bubbly and-"

"Always? How long do you know her? Ah, right, two days, Holly!" Santana frowned.

"Oh, don't give me that look, missy. You know that I know how you love to provoke a reaction out of people. Also, don't think I didn't see how you whispered something into her ear." Holly arched an eyebrow, expectantly looking at the girl in front of her.

"Fine!" Santana huffed. "Maybe I teased her a little, so what? Who knew she's so vulnerable." She rolled her eyes.

Holly just shook her head, "Come on, I'll give you some water, you still need to calm down." She went back to the other side of the bar counter.

"I don't need your water, offer it your new bubbly friend. I'm going home, I have a lot things to do tomorrow." Santana said seriously.

"As always." The bartender smiled.

Meanwhile, Brittany was sitting on the sink, bowing her head down as Quinn was circling around the bathroom.

"What the hell was that, Britt? Instead of apologizing you decided to insult Santana once again?"

"I don't know, Q. I've tried, I swear, but she was, uh, at first she was flirt-" The dancer remembered how Santana's breath was tickling her skin and how her lips were ghosting over her ear.

"She was what?" Her friend asked.

"She, uhm, she kept interrupting me!" The tall blonde decided not to mention that moment. "I wanted to apologize, Q, but she didn't want to hear me out." Brittany whined.

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit, Brittany." Quinn said sternly.

Brittany looked down at her knees, flushing with shame.

"And look what you've done, B. How could you say that she's addicted to alcohol, Britt?"

"I haven't said that." The dancer answered defensively.

Quinn sighed. "What happened to you? I've never seen you're acting like this."

"Uh, I…I don't know, Quinn. It's like she always gets on my bad side and I didn't even know I had this bad side before I met Santana!" She said desperately. "It wasn't easy to apologize and then everything just went wrong. I mean, look at her, she was going to punch me."

"It's not excuse you, Brittany." Quinn answered calmly. "Anyway, I have a meeting at her office tomorrow, so we should probably go home."

"What? Are you going to go? But, Q, this girl she's socially dangerous!"

"No, if you're not around." Quinn teased. "So stop being a drama queen and let's go. And you know you screwed up once again."

"You're supposed to be on my side." The dancer whined.

"I am, but it doesn't mean I'm going to pretend you were right. Now come on."

"How do you think, can we go out through the window?" Brittany asked hopefully.

Quinn just chuckled as she took her arm and dragged Brittany through the bathroom door.

As soon as girls came to the bar, they noticed Holly, who was carefully cleaning the counter, but the fierce Latina was nowhere to be seen.

Holly looked up, "Here you are. Let me make this clear, young lady, I do not approve your behavior in my bar, also Santana is my best friend and yes, she has rage, but she's a good person. And next time…well, let's just say that you don't want to fight with two of us. Did I make myself clear?" She said sternly, looking at Brittany who nodded guiltily. "Perfect."

"Holly, how did you become friends with her?" The blue eyes blonde asked timidly.

The bartender gave her a warning glance and was about to answer when Brittany explained, "No-no, I didn't mean it like that. Uh, it's just…oh, come on, even if I don't know her that well, it's pretty obvious she's, uh, she's a difficult person." The girl said warily.

Holly sighed. "It's simple. I needed a friend and Santana was there for me."

"I mean, I see that people love you. And it doesn't seem that you have problems making friends. Why her?"

"First of all, I wouldn't want anyone else but her. As for making friends, ask Quinn how many friends she had left after she was charged. How many people want to hang out with her now?" The bartender answered, recalling the incident that occurred earlier with Mitch.

The dancer looked at her friend, who smiled sadly.

"And so you know, Sweet cheeks, I don't remember the last time when Santana was drinking here something besides soft drinks. So next time care to find out what she's drinking, before saying something you would regret." Holly said simply without a hint of anger.

"Shit. Why do I keep fucking up?" Brittany mumbled and shook her head sadly.


	7. Chapter 7

Santana was sitting in a small café, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand, boringly looking out of the window. She had a meeting, which she was hoping wouldn't last long. She had lot things to do. Just a few minutes ago she's got a call phone from Kurt, he said in front of him was the envelopme in which were results of Mr. Walcott's autopsy. Finally she could start to develop strategies to defend Quinn, so she couldn't wait to go at her office.

"Ms. Lopez." Santana looked away from the window and throw a glance at the man who sat across from her at the table.

"You took your time, Fetus face." She said calmly.

"Can you at least once being polite?" The man sighed.

"Oh, I am right now." She smirked.

"Whatever, uhm, should we order first?"

"You wish. I'm not going to have breakfast with you, Hudson. Come on, straight to business, I have lot things to deal. Besides, I don't know how long you can stay on a dry land without water. And I have no idea where I can get a giant aquarium and I definitely don't want to call Berry to tell her that her Willy won't be dribbling a ball with his nose in exchange for fish anymore." The Latina answered droningly.

"When you stop being mean, Santana? Is it the reason why you didn't want to meet in your office? Because otherwise people would hear that the great Santana Lopez can't be civil."

"Oh no, Finnocence. I just don't want to have my office stinking like a fish market." Santana stated matter-of-factly. "So, spill it, what's your offer? "

"Right. It's simple, your client pleads guilty and I'll make sure she'll get a minimum prison sentence."

The brunette snorted, "You've got to be kidding me. If I let it happen, she'll get at least 10 years."

"No, I'm not kidding." Finn said blankly.

"Do I look like an idiot, Hudson?"

"Come on, Santana. You know you can't win this time. Convince her to take this offer, otherwise you will lose and I'll get a more severe punishment."

"You'll get? Puh-lease, Finn." Santana laughed. "This deal is beneficial only for you and the government."

"Santana, I know you're the one of the best lawyers, but even you can't save her from jail. Any lawyer will tell you that."

"Why now, Finn? Where have you been when my client got her arraignment? Hmm, let me guess, you were there at court as well, but she hasn't had a lawyer, so you have decided there was no need in your offer. She was an easy meat, wasn't she?" Santana told him. "Well, thank you for your offer Mr. Hudson, I'll see you in the courtroom." She stood up and walked towards the exit door.

* * *

Santana stormed into the elevator, cursing the morning traffic. She has about thirty minutes before Quinn's arrival and she had to study the papers which Kurt got from the police.

As soon as the elevator reached her floor she almost ran to Kurt.

"Good morning, Santana." The guy greeted cheerfully.

"Morning, Kurt. No time to talk, that moron Hudson, ugh, why we can't discuss it by the phone. What he was hoping for?" She mumbled quickly more to herself. "Where is it?" She asked, running her hand through her hair.

"Right here." Kurt gave her the envelope and Santana quickly made her way to her office.

She was reading the report, occasionally muttering curses under her breath when her work phone rang.

"Santana-" Kurt's voice came over the loudspeaker. "-Ms. Fabray-Walcott is here."

"Perfect."

A few seconds later Kurt opened the door, offering Quinn to come in.

"Hello, Santana." The blonde greeted.

"Morning, Quinn. Take a seat, please." Santana stood up, pointing to the chair in front of her desk.

"Ladies, do you want something? Coffee? Tea?" Kurt asked politely.

Santana looked at Quinn, waiting for her answer. "Uhm, no. Thank you." The blonde answered.

"I'm okay, thank you, Kurt." The Latina looked back at Kurt. He nodded mutely and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Well, let's start, shall we? I have some news to tell you. First things first. I had a meeting with the prosecutor assigned to your case. This is the usual procedure when the prosecutor is offering you a deal." Santana put her hands on the desk and continued, "I took the responsibility to reject his offer."

"Okay…may I ask you what he has offered?"

"Yes, sure. Terms of the deal lies in the fact that you have to plead guilty, and they will give you a minimum prison sentence. That, of course, is not an option."

"How long, uh, how many years?" Quinn asked quietly.

Santana sighed and looked into her eyes, "10 years for sure."

Quinn nodded and pressed her lips together while she was thinking, "Are you sure? I mean, I'm ready for-"

"Don't even go there, Quinn. I thought we have already talked about it. I will do everything in my power to defend you." The brunette said sternly. "If you need it, I can recommend a good therapist. It's totally okay to seek help from a doctor." The Latina assured her.

"No-no, I'm fine. It's just so weird." The woman mumbled, looking down at her knees.

"It could happen to anyone, Quinn. And it's not easy to cope with this situation. So if you need a help, just let me know, okay?"

"Okay, thank you, Santana. I feel like you treat me as, uhm, I don't know like I'm a child."

"Oh, I will wipe your snot, if I have to." The lawyer smiled and winked.

"I don't think it's written in your contract." Quinn chuckled.

"No, it's not." Santana agreed. "Anyway, let's continue. You have already met the prosecutor and judge when you were at court." Santana paused, seeing that Quinn has a question.

"Uhm, are they…good?"

"Well, frankly, I don't care who could be the prosecutor. I've met Hudson in the courtroom a few times…uhm, he knows his job and considering the fact that your case is not easy at all, I'm pretty sure he will be able to play his cards right. As for the judge, Ms. Jones is strict but fair. If you ask my opinion, there is no one else better than her. So yeah, it's totally good news. Do you have other questions or we can continue?" Quinn shook her head. "Perfect. I've got the autopsy report earlier. They haven't found any particles of human tissue on your husband's body. I think it's a completely bullshit. I saw marks on your neck, so there had to be something under his nails. But, anyway, there is nothing we can do about it." Santana sighed heavily. "The report revealed that your husband had traces of alcohol in his system at the time of his death, though. It says an alcohol concentration it the blood exceeding 2.0 per mile. Questions?"

"No." Quinn answered simply.

"Good. Since I'm your lawyer it's in your interests to tell me the whole truth. I need to know everything what can help me to defend you." Santana said gently.

"Okay."

"How often did your husband beat you?"

Quinn bit her lip and looked away.

"Quinn, I know, it's hard to talk about it, but-"

"It has been happening from time to time. Recently, Derek used to beat me more often. But nobody knows about it. I've always lied, telling it was some accident." The blonde interrupted Santana, still avoiding eye contact.

The Latina paused a few moments before asked, "So there is no one who can confirm your words?"

"Brittany knows me too good. And she always gave me that suspicious look if I was telling her I sprained my foot or bumped into a table. She knows that I'm always very collected and definitely can't be called clumsy. Actually, you can tell it about her. I mean, she's not clumsy I would even say that she's pretty graceful. It seemed she lives in her own world, and sometimes Brittany can be so airy-fairy." Quinn smiled and shook her head, remembering the incidents that happened to her best friend. "Well, one day she didn't let me off the hook, she literally pressed me against the wall. And, yeah, I told her. I remember she was furious, you see, Brittany is very protective when it comes to me."

"I've noticed." A soft smile appeared on Santana's lips.

"Yeah… But, yet, she had never acted like she was around you. Believe me, Santana, she's the most radiant person in the world. And things that she have said to you, I'm sure, she didn't mean to-"

"Oh, stop it. It's not what we're talking about. Moreover, it's between me and Ms. Pierce, so, please, just stop." Santana said sternly.

"Sorry. Anyway, I told her the truth a year ago or so, but-"

"Wha-wait, hold up!" The Latina stared at her in disbelief. "A year ago? How long it lasted, Quinn? And why you haven't done anything?" Santana's eyes were wide open.

"Uh, it has happened the first time that year when we moved to New York. Brittany found out the truth about a year later, she insisted that I should go to the police, but how could I do that, Santana? He was my husband. He was always so sad and kept telling this would never happen again. One day though, Brittany dragged me to the hospital, I mean she threw me over her shoulder and carried to her car. We've got a medical report, but I made her promise that she wouldn't go with it to the police." Quinn said with tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn." Santana looked at her sympathetically. "I guess I need to talk to Ms. Pierce then." She said musingly.

"This meeting will not be easy."

"It's my job." Santana answered calmly.

"Santana, may I ask what is your strategy?"

"Oh, yes! Sure. I'm not going to convince the judge and jury that you have mental disorders. First, it's not the truth. Secondly, I doubt that your life will be easier if they will put you in the nuthouse…and I'm sure they will do this if we decide to go that way. Believe me, the government never let you go just like that. So I'm going to convince it was self-defense." Santana told her.

"Can you do that?" Quinn whispered.

"I'll do my best." The brunette answered confidently, looking straight into her eyes. Seeing Quinn nodded, she continued, "We haven't list of the prosecution witnesses yet, but I guess one of the detectives will be in the courtroom, maybe even both. Was there anything noteworthy in your conversation with Detective Berry or Karofsky?"

"Uhm, no. Detective Berry only asked me some questions, but nothing unusual. I mean, nothing that I haven't seen in the movies."

Hearing this, Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Uh, is it bad?"

"No-no, not at all." The Latina answered amused. "Okay, Quinn, I have to remind you that you shouldn't discuss your case with anyone. It's important. No interviews or little talks with some strangers who can give you their sympathy. No contact with the prosecution witnesses as well. Got it?"

"I got it." The blonde assured, eagerly nodding.

"Perfect. Now I need to set the meeting with Ms. Pierce, as soon as possible. Please, talk to her and let me know when she will be ready to meet me."

"Will do."

"Thanks. Well, if you haven't any questions then that's all for today." Both girls got up and Santana reached the door, opening it for Quinn.

They said goodbye to each other and the blonde left Santana's office.

* * *

It was about half an hour from the time Santana told Kurt to not disturb her. She needed to focus on Quinn's case and there was no way she could do that if someone will always distract her. Realizing she was reading the same sentence for the fifth time, Santana decided to take a break. She took her glasses off, put them on the desk, closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to ease eye strain. Santana sighed as she heard her iPhone buzzed. She waited a few moments before she opened her eyes and picked up the phone. She got a new text message from Holly.

_Lunch? - Holly_

The brunette looked at her wristwatch and only then realized it was the lunch time. She immediately felt her stomach growled and remembered the she hasn't even had breakfast today.

_Yes, please! - Santana_

A few moments later her phone buzzed again.

_Awesome, the same place. - Holly_

15 minutes later Santana walked into a small restaurant where they used to have lunch. The Latina looked around and spotted the tall blonde was sitting at one of the tables.

"Ugh, finally! I thought I would die from hunger, waiting for you." Holly exclaimed too dramatically.

"Oh, please, Holly. You're like a camel, can live a month without any new food in your system. Your two humps aren't that big as camel's though." Santana smirked.

"Shut up, they're okay." Holly chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Let's order, shall we?" She opened the menu.

The waiter came up to them a few minutes later, ready to take their order. Both women said what they wanted and settled into easy chat while they were waiting.

"You look tired." Holly noticed.

"Yeah, you know, I started to work on the Quinn's case, so…" Santana trailed off.

"Oh, are you nervous?"

"It's just another case, why would I?" She tried to play it cool.

Holly narrowed her eyes, "Is that so?"

"Ugh, fine! Maybe this case a little more complicated than the others. I want to help her, Holly, but I'm afraid there will be so many pitfalls. I mean, the trial didn't even start and they already try to hide something." The Latina sighed heavily. "But I'm really glad that Mercedes-"

"Oh, she'll be the judge? That's great!" Holly interrupted her excitedly.

"Yeah, I guess I have no reason to doubt in the validity of the decision of the court now."

"Hey, you can do it." Holly smiled encouragingly. "And if you need to break a couple of glasses to appease your anger, my bar is full of these things." She winked as smile formed on Santana's lips.

Finally the waiter came back with their order and girls silently began to dig into their food. Taking the first bite, Santana realized how starving she was.

"Whoa, looks like you haven't eaten for a week." Holly teased, seeing her friend had a big appetite.

"Shut up, it's my first meal for the day." The Latina mumbled.

"I see. You always forget that you need to eat when you start working on the case." Her friend answered. "I guess I have to look more closely after you."

"Thanks, mom." Santana rolled her eyes.

Holly just grinned toothily. "There is something else I want to talk about." Santana nodded, so Holly continued, "The Chicago premiere on Broadway is a few days away. They say there a new cast and choreographer. I really want to see it."

The brunette licked her lips, thinking. "I don't know. I'd love to, but I have a lot of work now. Besides, I heard the premiere will be in the same day as the first sitting session of the court."

"Please, Santana." Holly pouted and the Latina was looking at her ridiculously. It was really weird to see the blonde with this expression. Maybe, Holly thought she looked adorable, but Santana barely suppressed laughter. "The last time we was watching-"

"The Lion King." Santana interrupted. It was her favorite musical on Broadway. She didn't care if it was childish, because the choreography was amazing. And she tried to go to watch it every time she had the chance. And of course, she was dragging Holly with her.

"Exactly. But it's over…like three months ago!"

"Okay-okay. But I do not agree on anything, except for VIP seats, you know."

"Pft, there is no way I was going to sit in the mezzanine." Holly playfully rolled her eyes as Santana chuckled.

Little did they know that they'll see the certain blonde on the Broadway stage.

* * *

**A/N: Probably this chapter is a bit boring, but since I want to do the court thing I couldn't cut it. Anyway, I hope I'll make it up in the next one or two. The first courtroom scene, Broadway and some Brittana interaction. ;-)**

**Also I've got some similar messages about Brittana. Didn't want to write the same thing to everyone, so I'll answer here. Guys, if you think that Santana will always snap at Brittany and Brittany will snap back, that's perfect. That's exactly what I want. I need to build up this tension between them and there is no way I can do that by one chapter. So please, be patient. Thanks for all your opinions and for reading. If you have any questions feel free to ask. Here or on tumblr. :-)**


	8. Chapter 8

Brittany was nervous. If she had a chance, she wouldn't have gone at this meeting. But there she was, going to meet a person whom she wanted to see the least. Brittany was a few meters away from the main gate of the park when she spotted the Latina, who was standing there, staring glumly at her phone. Brittany stopped a few feet away from her, thinking about how to make the girl realize her presence. Feeling someone's stare, Santana looked up from her cell phone and met piercing blue eyes, boring into hers.

"Morning, Ms. Pierce." She said making a step forward as the blonde instantly took a step back.

"Morning, Ms. Lopez." Brittany eyed her cautiously.

"Uh, well, uhm…do you want to walk or take a seat would be better?" Santana was twisting her phone nervously.

"Go for a walk."

"Okay." The Latina replied. Seeing that Brittany didn't move, she turned around and walked slowly deeper into the park. She glanced back and saw that Brittany followed her, still keeping their distance. After a few steps Santana realized she couldn't talk to the blonde, if they'll keep walking like that. She stopped abruptly and spun around to Brittany. The dancer had no time to react so quickly, so she approached Santana very close, but then took two steps back, carefully watching Santana.

The dark haired girl sighed, slumping her shoulders, "Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Oh, now you're apologizing." Brittany answered angrily.

Santana clenched her fist, making herself to ignore the blonde's remark and continued, "I know that the way I behaved in a bar other day it was completely inappropriate. I didn't mean to, okay? I have no explanation for this gush of anger…no, of course, maybe…if you had watched your words, none of this would have happened. I mean, it's not only me who should be blamed for this-" Santana was rambling.

"Are you trying to say it was my fault?" Brittany stared at her in disbelief.

"No? Uh, I promise it will never happen again. Yeah, I lost my cool that day, but you shouldn't be afraid to be around me, because-"

"I'm not afraid of you." Brittany crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sure you are." The Latina retorted. "Listen, I apologize. It's not like I'm saying it very often, but there, I said it."

"Oh, what an honor." The blonde scoffed.

"Seriously? Now?" Santana looked at her angrily. "I'm trying here, okay? I can't talk to you if you're walking a few meters away from me. Can we just once forget about this problem between us and have a talk about your friend's case? It's our common interest, don't you think? I assure you, you have nothing to be afraid of." Santana said in despair.

"Okay." Brittany answered quietly. Pausing for a moment, she bit her lip and took a few steps to come alongside with Santana.

"Thanks." The brunette breathed out and the girls started their walk again, but this time next to each other.

She asked Brittany about the day when she found out that Derek had been beating Quinn and why she didn't go to police, even if her friend asked her not to do it. Also she asked her questions about high school, how she met Quinn and how long they have been friends. They talked about Derek as well.

"What can you say about Mr. Walcott's parents?" The girls were sitting on the bench now.

"Um, they are good people, why?" Brittany looked at Santana questioningly.

"I have a reason to ask." Santana noticed how Brittany narrowed her eyes, but she couldn't care less. "How they're treating Quinn? I know that Quinn was pregnant in high school, how they took that information?"

"Carol she's a very kind and sincere woman. Quinn is like a daughter to her, and I mean it. Actually, you can say that they come along better than Quinn and Judy, uh, Mrs. Fabray. No, I call her Judy, but I don't know if you know Mrs. Fabray's first name. Well, I guess, you should know, since you're her lawyer. I mean, not Judy's lawyer-" Brittany started rambling, so Santana interrupted her.

"Ms. Pierce, I got your point. Please, continue." The Latina was trying to hide a small smile, forming at the corners of her mouth. She caught herself on the thought that Brittany looked kind of adorable when she mused, frowning slightly and trying not to get lost in her own thoughts.

"Right. I remember, when Carol was in the hospital, Quinn had been visiting her almost every single day. As for Mr. Walcott, he's…uhm, he's very discreet and sometimes too stern, but he was always nice to Quinn too. They-"

"I'm sorry for interrupting, but why Mrs. Walcott was in the hospital?" Santana asked.

"She had appendicitis, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, okay. What about pregnancy?"

"Well, of course, it was a big shock to them, but they supported Quinn and Derek. They even moved to New Haven, when Quinn and Derek came to Yale. And then here, to New York. Quinn has never told me she had some disagreements with her parents-in-law."

"What about her own parents?"

"They still live in Lima. Quinn doesn't communicate with her father though. Mr. Fabray was furious when she told them she was pregnant. Then he and Judy divorced. But Quinn, Derek and Kathy were visiting her mother from time to time. Or Judy is visiting them here. And I have to say, their families get along very well." Brittany answered sadly.

"Hmm-" Santana hummed musingly, "-well, I guess I know what I need to. Can you tell that in the courtroom?"

"Sure." Brittany said without thinking.

"Good. I think we can go then." They stood up from the bench and walked the same way to the the park exit.

A few minutes they were walking in an awkward silence. Considering the fact that every spoken word could provoke an angry response from both of girls, none of them didn't know what to say. Or should they have to maintain a polite conversation at all. It was until Santana suddenly remembered something.

"Ms. Pierce, you said Quinn was studied at Yale. How can you be so sure she hasn't had problems in her relationship with Derek all that time?"

"Because we kept in touch, I told you that." Brittany answered a little impatiently.

"Yes, but you haven't seen her very often, right? How could you know they didn't put a show and didn't play a happy family when you were visiting them in New Haven?" Santana remembered Quinn's words; the blonde said the first time when Derek hit her was when they moved to New York. But what if their problems began long before that? And the assault was just the next stage.

"Are you trying to tell me that I don't know my best friend? That I'm too stupid, so I can't tell when a person acts honestly and when they're pretending?" The dancer responded angrily.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Here we go." She muttered under her breath, so Brittany couldn't hear her.

Glanced to the left, Brittany noticed that Santana was walking with unreadable expression. Seeing that the brunette wasn't going to answer, Brittany continued, "I know Quinn. She might be having a perfect poker face, but I can tell if there is something bothering her. They were really happy. Damn, even with those bruises, when I have been seen them together, there was no fear in her eyes. Derek was always extremely fond of Quinn and Kathy. I'm not trying to excuse what he did, no. But I'm not going to lie, telling you he was a monster." Brittany glared at Santana.

"Okay-okay, don't be so angry, it was just a question." Santana told her, rolling her eyes.

Just a few minutes ago they were civil to each other and now Brittany was trying so hard not to yell, while Santana kept telling herself that their meeting was almost over. They stopped at the entrance gates.

"Uh, would it be okay if I'll be in the courtroom? You know, supporting Quinn." The blonde asked timidly.

Santana blinked a few times, staring at Brittany. She was wondering if this girl was bipolar or it was really her, who had this kind of influence on the blonde.

"Sure, why not." Santana said carefully.

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Will be there someone for you?" Brittany asked.

"No, why?" The Latina was confused.

"Well, to support you, obviously." Brittany stated matter-of-factly.

"It's my job, Ms. Pierce. I don't need a babysitter." Santana looked at her quizzically.

"So I'm a babysitter then?" Brittany responded angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.

And there it was again, but this time Santana couldn't help herself and snapped back, "I don't know, are you, _Blondie_?"

"Will you ever stop being an asshole?" Brittany asked irritatedly, louder than necessary.

"Will you ever stop twisting my words?" Santana threw up her arms in despair, her voice rose up to a shout. "There's not any double meaning there!"

And just like that they began to argue loudly, attracting the attention of passers-by. The girls were acting like an old married couple, fighting over the stupidest things. It could be funny to watch, if they weren't shooting death glares at each other.

"Excuse me, ladies. Is everything alright?" The man asked them carefully.

"YES!" They shouted at him, not taking their eyes off of each other.

"Oh-o-kay." The man gulped and left as quickly as possible.

However, it seemed to distract Santana and she tried to get back to her professional mode. "Do you need, uh, a lift?" She asked Brittany reluctantly.

"I have a car!" The blonde was a little out of breath because of their dispute.

"Fine!"

"Fine!" Brittany parroted Santana.

Without saying goodbye they stormed off in opposite directions.

* * *

Today was the day. The first day of the trial. Santana was sitting in her car in the courthouse parking lot. She and Quinn decided to meet there, so they could get through the crowd of reporters who were standing at the building. A few minutes later her cell phone got off.

"Hello, Quinn."

"Hi, Santana. We're here."

The Latina glanced in the rear-view mirror and spotted two blondes a few meters behind. She immediately got out of her car and waved to them.

"Morning." She greeted both women as they approached each other.

"Hey." Quinn waved to her weakly while Brittany just nodded silently, looking Santana up and down. "Wow, you look stunning." Quinn nodded approvingly.

Santana breathed a laugh, "Well, thanks. It's an honor for me to get a compliment from the First lady." She grinned widely, making Quinn blush.

Brittany was watching them suspiciously. Was Santana being nice? And why Quinn blushed? The dancer was a little shocked with it. And she didn't know why, but she definitely didn't like the way they were acting. However, she couldn't agree more with Quinn. Santana was wearing a long-sleeved white blouse, black pencil skirt and black suede peep-toe pumps. It was warm outside so her blazer was off and draped over her arm. Her dark hair fell in waves up to her shoulders.

"I bet I've got the hottest lawyer." Quinn said, causing Brittany frown.

Santana just rolled her eyes playfully. "You look great too, by the way. I'd say classy." She told Quinn. The blonde was in an elegant dove grey dress. A pair of the palest pale grey heels completed her outfit.

Finally Santana looked properly at Brittany and she almost forgot how to speak. The dancer was wearing a sexy sleek black pants suit with her hair loosely pulled back in a ponytail with a couple of pieces hanging down in front. The plunging neckline was adorned with layered gold necklaces, adding a feminine touch to the look. "I-it's good to see you in, uhm, not in jeans." Santana mumbled, slapping herself mentally at how lame she sounded. She cleared her throat and tried again, "What I was trying to say, that you look very chic." The Latina said more confidently this time. In fact, she thought that Brittany looked more than just very chic, the blonde looked absolutely gorgeous and extremely hot. But of course Santana would never admit it.

"Thank you." She answered timidly. Brittany loved bright colors, but since she was going to courthouse she had to pick up more discreet outfit colors. And so far, she was very unsure and doubting her choice. But for some reason Santana's words made her believe that she chose the right clothes. And she felt a strange pleasant tingling sensation flow through her body as Santana complimented her.

"Okay!" The Latina clapped her hands. "It's time to go. Just tilt your heads down and don't talk to journalists, got it? No matter what they say, ignore them." She looked at the blondes and they just nodded in answer. "Great, let's go then."

* * *

Once they were in the courtroom and took their seats, Santana looked at her wrist watch. Just one minute left. She turned to Quinn, who was sitting next to her, and smiled reassuringly, "Everything is gonna be okay." She heard as the door closed and looked at the left, seeing Mercedes Jones stepped in. Santana immediately got up just like other people in the room. She inhaled a deep breath, knowing that the show has officially started.

"Court is in session, you may be seated. Let the record show that the defendant and his counsel are present, and that the attorneys for the state and the jury are also present. Mr. Hudson, you may begin." Judge Jones said.

"Thank you, Your Honor." Finn stood up from his chair. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Finn Hudson. I'm the assistant district attorney, and I represent the people." He began his opening statement. "Derek Walcott was a young, successful politician. Every day he had been waking up, went to work and coming back home to his family. As long as his life was not cut short. And Ms. Fabray-Waclott -" He pointed to Quinn, "- was involved in his death. My job is to provide you with evidence of the cold-blooded murder. And we will prove that it wasn't an accident or self-defense. Ms. Lopez, the attorney for the defense is seated right next to the woman she represents. She may try to convince you that the defendant is mentally ill. I'll prove that she's not. I said a moment ago that I represent the people. We all know what that means, but it's a little abstract, isn't it? I'm here on behalf of someone who can't sit at a table and look at you every day. Someone who can't take the stand to testify and tell you what happened in his own words. I stand here for Derek Walcott, a caring father and a loving husband, who died not by his own choice. Thank you." Finn nodded and went back to his table.

"Is the defense prepared to make its opening statement?" The judge looked at Santana.

"I'd like to reserve my opening statement until the presentation of the defense's case." Santana answered, rising up from her chair.

"As is your privilege." Mercedes said and then turned her attention to Finn, "Prosecution may begin."

"Don't worry, that's my plan." Santana whispered to Quinn.

"Thank you, Your Honor." Finn stood up.

The clerk called out David Karofsky. He made his way to the witness stand.

"Please raise your right hand." The clerk said him. "Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do." Detective Karofsky answered firmly.

"Please state your full name and spell your last name for the record."

The detective did as he was told. The clerk nodded and walked aside, Finn took his place.

"Detective, you were the one who came to Ms. Fabray-Walcott's house after she called 911, weren't you?"

"Me, my partner and two medics." The man confirmed.

"What can you say about the defendant, when you saw her that day?"

"Well, she opened the door, her arms, hands and clothes were stained with blood. Her hair was a mess, but she was very calm. And I'd say, polite."

"Did she resist when you were trying to step into the house?"

"Umm, no. As I said earlier, she opened the door, my partner introduced us and that woman, uh, Ms. Fabray-Waclott stepped aside, so we could walk in." Detective narrowed his eyes, remembering. "Actually, I haven't seen her long enough. As we stepped in, me and the medics went to the kitchen, where the Mr. Waclott's body was. And my partner stayed with defendant."

"And who is your partner?"

"Detective Rachel Berry."

"Okay. The report says that on the floor, next to the body, were found towels and cloths soaked with blood." Finn said.

"Yes."

"Was it your impression that the defendant had tried to cover up what she had done?"

"That's just ridiculous." Santana muttered. "Objection! Leading the witness." She intervened.

"Sustained." Judge Jones nodded.

Finn clenched his jaw, glaring at Santana. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the judge, "No further questions."

Santana got up from the table and walked over to the witness. "You said, you went straight to the kitchen. Can you describe what you saw there?"

"Mr. Walcott's body was on the floor, there were towels soaked with blood as I already said, and fragments of broken glass. Uhm, also some fruits were lying near to the fridge. On the floor, I mean."

"Was there something else?"

"Well, n-no. The kitchen was very clean, so I noticed this stuff immediately." The man answered, causing Santana to narrow her eyes suspiciously.

"The report states that there also was an empty bottle of whiskey on the kitchen island." Santana quirked an eyebrow.

"Uh…maybe…" Detective Karofsky glanced nervously at the prosecutor then back at Santana. "I didn't pay attention." He said, looking down at the floor.

The Latina tilted her head to the side, "Is that so? You said the kitchen was clean, so tell me, Detective, how did it happen that you didn't notice that bottle?"

"Objection! Ms. Lopez is putting pressure on the witness." Finn stated.

"Your Honor, I just want to make it clear. Couldn't that bottle put itself into a plastic bag and then come to the police station. Someone had to take it. Detective Karofsky said he was in the kitchen with two medics. It doesn't seem like a crowd to me, so I'm trying to understand how this thing could go unnoticed by experienced police officer." Santana elaborated.

"Answer the question, Detective." The judge said. Finn plopped down on his chair with a huff.

"Uh…" He gulped. A few beads of sweat appeared on Detective's forehead and once again he threw a nervous glance at Finn.

"Detective?" Santana asked him.

The man sighed heavily and closed his eyes, "Yeah, there was an empty bottle of whiskey. I put it in the bag for evidence, b-but, uh, I'm not sure if I took it from the island." He answered weakly.

The Latina nodded. "Can you prevent the possibility that that mess in the kitchen was the result of the struggle between Mr. Walcott and the defendant?"

"The question calls for speculation!" Finn shoot up from his seat, pointing his finger to Santana.

"I asked Detective's opinion as a professional. It's his job. Who else can point us to the signs of struggle if not Police Detective?" The Latina retorted.

"The objection has been overruled." Judge Jones stated.

"Yes, I can prevent that possibility." The witness answered.

"Thank you, Detective." Santana spun around and went to sit next to Quinn.

The next prosecution witness was Rachel Berry.

"Ms. Berry-"

"I prefer Detective Berry, Mr. Hudson." The short brunette interrupted.

"Sorry." Finn mumbled and continued, "Detective Berry, your partner said you were staying with Ms. Fabray-Waclott as he and the medics have had to deal with her dead husband."

"That is correct." The woman nodded.

"Did you notice anything strange in her actions?"

"Hmm, no I don't think so. We were sitting on the couch in the living room. At first I thought the defendant was too calm for a person who had hit her husband with a knife, but-"

"So it means she wasn't crying nor had a panic attack?" The prosecutor didn't let her finish.

"I'd rather you didn't interrupt me, Mr. Hudson. It was rude and unprofessional. You asked me a question, so you need to wait and hear me out before you can ask the next one." She reprimanded.

"I'm sorry." Finn mumbled guiltily, causing Santana to roll her eyes at the scene.

"As I said, Ms. Fabray-Waclott was pretty calm and quite adequate. I can't tell you if she had a panic attack or if she was tormented herself with remorse. Sure, I can make a guess, but it would be wrong on my part, because I'm not a mental specialist." Detective Berry said.

"The defendant stated she had a fight with her husband and that he was strangling her. Have you seen any marks on her neck?"

"Uh…yes." Rachel answered carefully. "They were pretty noticeable."

"In your opinion, how much time has passed since the defendant got those injuries?"

"Objection, Your Honor! Detective Berry isn't a doctor, we can rely on her conclusions in the same way if we'd ask some stranger." Santana said.

"Detective Berry works at the police a several years. She was faced with this sort of thing many times and can tell the approximate time of injury. I would like to know her opinion." Finn responded.

"The objection has been overruled." Judge Jones turned to Rachel and nodded, reassuring her to answer the question.

Santana narrowed her eyes. She couldn't put a finger on the reason why Finn has asked that. Technically, that fact was a good thing for Santana, not for Finn. But she knew, Finn wasn't an idiot, at least if they were talking about job. The Latina leaned her elbows on the table, folded hands in the lock and put her chin on them, thinking about what the prosecutor had on his mind.

"I would say one hour. The marks were quite fresh. Not deep bruising, but the redness was very, uhm, impressive."

"Thank you, Detective. Your witness." Finn turned to Santana, grinning smugly.

"Detective Berry-" Santana began, getting up from the table. "-were you just sitting in silence all that time?"

"No, of course not. Like any other police officer I asked her what happened, but Ms. Fabray-Waclott just yelled at me."

"So, she wasn't that calm as you told us a few minutes ago?" The Latina was fully aware that she had to make the jury doubt the theory of cold-blooded murder.

Rachel gulped loudly.

"Detective?" Santana looked at Rachel with a challenge. "The defendant had snapped at you after you asked her a simple question. Was it your impression that she was on the edge?"

"Objection, You Honor! Ms. Berry isn't a certified psychologist. She can't give us an answer. Besides, Ms. Lopez is leading the witness." Finn's voice came from behind.

"Sustained." The judge stated.

"The defendant just yelled at you? That's it?" Santana asked in another way.

"Uh, no. A few minutes after that she apologized and said that…" Rachel, just like her partner earlier, nervously glanced over at Finn and then back at Santana, "She said her husband was clenching her and then he-" The short brunette swallowed the lump in her throat, "he threatened to kill their daughter." As she said that, people in the courtroom gasped.

"And she said it to you in a rehearsed manner? With unreadable expression on her face?"

"Objection! I've already said the witness isn't a doc-"

"I know that, but I'm not asking Ms. Berry to deliver a diagnosis. I'm just asking her to describe the defendant in that moment. I guess any person can do that." Santana cut Finn off angrily.

"Answer the question, Ms. Berry." The judge said wearily.

The woman hesitated for a moment. Her eyes were randomly running around the room, avoiding contact with Santana's. Inhaling heavily, she said, "Tears were rolling down her face. I looked at her and saw a frightened woman."

The Latina nodded. "No further questions, Your Honor." She was not content. She couldn't understand what the hell was going on. First Karofsky and now Berry, they both were nervously glancing at the assistant district attorney before answering the question.

Making her way to the table, Santana felt someone's stare. She looked up and saw Brittany was staring at her with unreadable expression. For a moment they got lost in each others eyes, until Santana looked away and shook her head, focusing back on the trial.

"The people call Kyle Johnson."

A tall middle-aged man walked into the courtroom and took the stand to testify.

"Mr. Johnson, how did you know Mr. Walcott?" The prosecutor began.

"We are work-, uh, sorry-" He shook his head, a fake look of hurt on his face.

"What the fuck?" Santana muttered under her breath.

"-were working together. And he was my best friend." The man continued.

After those words Quinn whipped her head to Santana, "Santana, Santana!" She whispered, feverishly. The lawyer leaned closer to her, not tearing her eyes away from the witness. "I don't know who it is. It's the first time I see that man."

"What?!" The Latina whispered back and frowned in confusion.

"I've never seen him before. And I swear, Derek never mentioned about him. What kind of best friend he's supposed to be?" She freaked out.

"Okay-okay. Just calm down, Quinn. I got it." Santana handed a glass of water to her and put a hand on Quinn's shoulder, squeezing lightly. The blonde took a few sips and nodded. "Good girl." The Latina gave her a comforting smile.

"-Derek used to tell me that Quinn was acting weird sometimes. He kept telling me, he hasn't had support from her anymore and that she became cold and distant. He even told me he suspected her of cheating and that she was staying with him for his money." The witness said.

"Then why he didn't divorce her?" Finn asked.

"He loved her." The man shrugged. "Derek was always so broken when we were talking about it. And he kept asking me what to do. I know they looked like a model family, but no one knows what goes on behind closed doors."

"Your witness." Finn looked at Santana.

"You told us about Mr. Waclott's mental anguish, you were so sure about it."

"Well, yes. I have a second bachelor's degree. I'm a psychologist as well."

"Really? That's great." The Latina pressed her lips together. "So you're saying you were setting like a psychotherapy sessions during the lunch break?"

"No. We were talking about it after our work day was over." The man said calmly.

"Oh, in other words, we must take seriously your talks over beer at the bar where every single person complains about their life, even if they're doing great." Santana said ironically.

"Objection! Ms. Lopez is harassing my witness."

"Withdrawn." Santana said. "How long did you know Mr. Walcott?" She was looking straight into the witness's eyes.

"Since he got a job in New York. Umm, three or four years I guess."

"Have you ever been in his house?"

"Of course."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then how did it happen that today is the first day when my client sees you? And she's a housewife. You said you were Mr. Walcott's best friend, but his wife tells that she has never heard about you." Santana questioned.

"Uh-" He shifted in his chair. "-maybe you should ask her, why she was never home? I don't wanna draw any conclusions, but what if Derek was right about her, uhm, affair." The man smirked.

"Nothing further." Santana said. She couldn't believe she walked right into that.

"We are recessed until tomorrow morning." The Judge Jones stated.

"Nice, Lopez. Thanks." Finn said, grinning smugly. "Just keep it going and I don't have to do any work."

"Fuck off, Hudson." Santana growled.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry! I've been editing this chapter a thousand times. And when I finally did that, I forgot my password! It's so embarrassing.**

**to K and Guest: Ah, didn't want to answer that question yet, but okay. Why Brittany is the one who should apologize. For example, let's say your parents have friends who are very important people. But you don't like them and they don't like you either. They may say something rude to you, you can say something mean back. But when your parents find out, they will make you apologize to those people. This is not fair, is it? And if this happens again and over again, you start to get angry every time more and more. And then BOOM - a huge outburst of anger. Does it make sense or it's just in my head?**

**Anyway, I'm doing it on purpose. So you wouldn't blame Britt (I hope so) for her some unnecessary little aggression in future. And then there will be a BOOM. And trust me, we want this BOOM. ;-)**


	9. Chapter 9

Santana leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She couldn't stop thinking about what happened in the courtroom today. It was just the first day, but the atmosphere was so tense as if the trial was coming to the end. She didn't even want to think what could happen when it actually will come to the finish line. That's why Santana was waiting for the show to begin, so she could forget about her work at least for a few hours.

"Are you okay?" Holly looked at her worriedly.

The Latina opened her eyes and turned her head to the left, without raising her head up from the back of her chair. "Yeah, just a rough day."

Holly pursed her lips, looking at her knowingly. She knew how hard it was for her friend to switch her thoughts on something else, when she was working on a case. The blonde turned her look on an empty stage and sighed. "I can't wait for the show to start. It seems like this was ages ago since we were on Broadway last time."

"Mhmm." Santana hummed.

"Ugh, two minutes left!" Holly squirmed impatiently in her seat.

"Jeez, calm down. You're acting like a baby." Santana chuckled.

"Says who? Could you, please, remind me who kept rushing me every time we went to watch The Lion King, bouncing up and down on the spot, when I was refusing to run after you?"

"Yeah-yeah, and you care to remind me who started singing along with the cast on "Circle of Life"? Thank God, we're always sitting in VIP and nobody but me was forced to listen to your wailing." The Latina rolled her eyes.

The blonde gasped in mock hurt, placing her hand on the chest. "Okay-okay, you win. I just can't wait to see this production."

Once Holly said that, the light in the room went out, and the girls heard the opening chords of "Overture".

"Oh, shush-shush you!" The blonde whispered excitedly, causing Santana to roll her eyes once again.

A few minutes later Velma Kelly appeared on stage, singing "All That Jazz".

"Well, definitely not Catherine Zeta-Jones." Holly wrinkled her nose.

"Can you, please, shut up? I love this song." Santana hissed.

The back-up dancers joined the actress, and the stage didn't look so poor and empty anymore. It's not like the producers were trying to save the money, no. Chicago was a musical that was famous by its acting and spectacular dance performances, so there was no need to impress the audience with costly decorations.

Both women were mesmerized by what was happening, a real dance storm was reigning before their eyes. Santana was trying to take in the whole picture, and then she was looking at the each dancer in particular, until the certain one didn't attract her attention. The moment when the light on the stage became more vivid, the brunette's jaw dropped.

"Uh…uhm, Santana?" Holly reluctantly tore her eyes off the scene and glanced over at her friend. The brunette was sitting, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes as if she was trying to see something. Holly tried once again, "Santana, is it…isn't it-"

"Brittany." The Latina breathed out.

Holly gulped and turned her attention back to the show.

The number was over and show went on, telling a Roxie's story. But the girls were still in shock and weren't able to focus on the next performance.

A few minutes passed and Velma with the Murderesses took their places to perform "Cell Block Tango".

_"Pop… Six. Squish… Uh uh. Cicero... Lipschitz!"_

Santana's eyes unconsciously were looking for a certain blonde. The dim light illuminated the six women who were standing behind the alleged prison cell. Santana didn't know if Brittany could sing or she was just a dancer.

_"You know how people have these little habits that get you down…"_

The first woman came out from the cell and approached her partner for a dance part of the number. She jumped into the man's arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck, bending her knees, throwing her head back and arching her back while her partner was circling her around the stage.

_"So, I said to him, I said, Bernie, you pop that gum one more time..."_

After a few tango steps she rudely pushed him away and turning her back to the audience, creating a rolling motion with her hips. Looking to the right she noticed the man was approaching her, so she faced him and lift her leg in a way that her heel rested against his chest. Three seconds later she put her hand to his head and bent her fingers, forming a gun. On the specific music beat she twitched her hand a little, imitating a gun shot and her partner fell on the ground. The woman pulled a pink silk ribbon out from his neck and disappeared into the darkness.

During the chorus all six women were dancing behind the cell, each of them was doing unimaginable moves.

_"I met Ezekiel Young from Salt Lake City about two years ago. And he told me he was single…"_

The woman who was playing Annie stepped forward. Her dance partner was already waiting for her. Suddenly she lifted her leg up to the man's hip and he slowly ran his hand up from her ankle to her thigh. Then he began to back away, dragging the girl with him. Stopping abruptly, he turned in a way that Annie was under him, her leg still on his hip. It seemed like with every dance part the moves were becoming more bestial.

_"So that night, when he came home from work, I fixed in his drink. As usual. You know, some guys just can't hold their arsenic."_

The man leaned in as if he was going to kiss her. His right hand was trailing down from Annie's collarbone, grazing her breast, coming to the stomach and in the end he wrapped his hand underneath her thigh, picking the woman up, her legs around his hips. He turned on the spot and now he was standing his face to the viewers. In one sudden movement he tilted Annie's body backwards so she put both her hands on the ground, legs were still clenching around his hips. A moment later she lifted her legs up in the air and, using the strength of her hands, she overturned, so she was standing on her feet, with her back to the audience. She walked up to her partner, kissed him and then he fell on the ground, but not before she pulled a pink silk ribbon out from him.

Another chorus and once again all women were behind the cell. Only this time they have split into the pairs. And while one girl was pinned face-to-cell, the other one was close behind her, slowly sinking down as if she was checking her partner for weapons; only it was a lot sexier than the cops were doing it.

_"Now, I'm standing in the kitchen carvin' up the chicken for dinner, minding my own business, and in storms my husband Wilbur, in a jealous rage…"_

The stage plunged into the darkness, just two spotlights were illuminating a girl and her partner. Santana's breath hitched. The girl was wearing black lingerie and black stockings just like other women. But this time it was the blonde that Santana was looking for since the beginning of this number.

Brittany's voice wasn't cheerful and light-hearted as the Latina used to hear it when Brittany was talking to Holly or Quinn. Also it wasn't edgy, as it used to be when Brittany was talking, well, trying to talk to Santana. The blonde's voice was lower and sexier now. If Santana didn't see it was Brittany, she would never recognize it.

Brittany's partner was standing a few steps away from her. She lifted her leg up, placing her heel on his shoulder. The man began to walk toward, Brittany's leg still on his shoulder. Sharply he took the last step and walked right up to her. Her leg was completely lifted up now, along the upper part of her body. Brittany tried to turn her head and look at the viewers, but he grabbed her chin and turned her head, making her look straight into his eyes. The blonde pushed him away, so there were a few meters between them. They started to walk toward each other; Brittany suddenly ducked down, putting her arms around his waist, lifting both her legs up in the air. For a couple of seconds they stayed in that position, Brittany's body was hanging upside down while her partner was holding her tightly around her waist. On the specific music beat Brittany sharply spread her legs, making a split in the air.

Santana's mouth went dry at the sight.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ…" Holly breathed out.

_"And then he ran into my knife…"_

The man spun them around. He began to sit down on the ground until completely didn't lay back. In one movement Brittany turned around on him and she was facing the audience, straddling her partner. Once again she spread her legs in a split, he held her hips. Without using her hands, she lifted up a little and then sank down on him. As if she was springing. Smoothly.

"F-fuck…" Santana's jaw dropped.

"Is she, uh, is she riding him?" Holly mumbled weakly.

_"He ran into my knife ten times!"_

When she sank down on him for the last time, he threw his head back at the same moment when Brittany hit him into his chest and pulled a pink silk ribbon out from it.

The darkness. A few seconds later the six lights illuminated the six chairs. Each girl was sitting in her own chair, face away.

_"My sister, Veronica and I did this double act and my husband, Charlie, used to travel round with us. Now, for the last number in our act, we did these 20 acrobatic tricks on a row…"_

Velma got up from her chair and came forward, singing her part.

Santana couldn't care less. Her attention was focusing on the certain blonde, who by this moment turned around in the chair, her legs wide apart. Brittany ran her hands up and down the sides of the chair back and stood up. She turned her chair around so now it was turned properly to the viewers. A moment later she got up on the chair, raising her arms above her head and then seductively ran one hand down along her arm.

_"I loved Alvin Lipschitz more than I can possibly say. He was a real artistic guy... Sensitive... a painter."_

Brittany jumped up a little on the chair and instead of landing back on it; she slightly spread her legs apart and plopped down in the chair on her butt, opening her legs wider as she properly took her seat.

Santana swallowed thickly.

_"The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum…"_

The girls were dancing in pairs, Brittany was with the actress, who was playing Velma. They were standing in the center, facing each other, maintaining body contact from the rib cage to the hips. Brittany stretched her right leg out, her partner mirrored the movement. They stood up straight and Velma turned in the blonde's arms, facing away from her. Brittany picked her up slightly, so the woman raised her left leg up high and wrapped around Brittany's waist, caressing it. The blonde sharply pushed the woman away, so she stumbled back to the chair. Brittany reached her own chair as well.

_"Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!"_

One the final chord Brittany got down in the split, raising one hand above her head.

The light went out.

Holly cleared her throat. "I think I've just got pregnant." She croaked.

Santana looked at Holly, blinking a few times. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come out.

"She's got the moves." Holly shook her head, trying to recover from the shock.

"Yeah…" Santana croaked. She wet her lips and swallowed thickly, turning her attention back to the show, not really understanding what was going on there anymore.

* * *

"Did you know?" Santana asked. She and Holly were sitting in Holliday Bar. At first the Latina didn't want to go, because she had to be in a courthouse tomorrow morning, but Holly implored. Moreover, the girls had something to talk about.

"Did I know what? That Brittany is a Broadway star?" Santana nodded. "Nope, I had no idea. I mean, she has said she was a dancer, but I thought a dancer like I'm-a-dance-instructor-in-a-studio dancer."

"God, I wonder what that girl can do in bed." Holly mused. "What a stretch, I bet she's a-"

"Please, just stop right there!" Santana cut her off.

"What? You've seen it with your own eyes! The rest of the show I was sitting with my legs crossed tightly." The blonde deadpanned.

Santana was about to retort when the crowd of seven people went to the bar. Her eyes caught a flash of blond hair, of course it was Brittany. She and some guy were making their way to the bar counter, as the other went to the stair that led to the VIP area. Brittany spotted the girls and approached them.

"Hi." She beamed.

Holly grinned widely as Santana studied her face curiously.

"So… I'm a dancer was meaning I'm fabulous Broadway dancer." Holly said with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Wha-how did you know?" Brittany blushed furiously.

"Aww, don't be shy, Sweet Cheeks. You were incredible. Me and my pretty, but grumpy, Latina couldn't tear our eyes off of you. Well, I personally am couldn't tear one of my legs off of the other one after your tango." She chuckled. Santana stared at her friend in disbelief, but Holly kept grinning.

"You saw?" Brittany's face became even redder.

"Mhmm."

"Hey, Britt! Are you coming?" The guy appeared behind her back. "Oh, hi! I'm Justin. I and Britt are working together." He said, noticing Holly.

"Holly." She introduced herself. "And I'm a huge fan of this girl."

"You've seen a show tonight!" Justin exclaimed. "Yeah, well, she's amazing. I mean not just an amazing friend and dance partner, but also boss."

"A boss?" Holly looked at him confusingly.

He was about to answer when a bartender called him out. "I'll be right back. Gotta get our drinks." He winked and left.

"So, a boss?" Holly quirked an eyebrow, amusingly looking at Brittany.

"Well…uh, kind of. I'm also a main choreographer of the show." She answered, smiling proudly.

"That's sweet." Santana intervened. "A girl came from a small town, following her big dream. And now, a few years later, she's right here, a rising Broadway star." She scoffed.

"Why are you always picking on me?" Brittany asked simply. She didn't want to let Santana ruin her night.

"Did I hurt your feelings, Miss Broadway Princess?" The Latina asked with mock worry.

Brittany narrowed her eyes, "What is it, Santana? Are you envy? I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I can perform on a big stage instead of dancing in some club, entertaining a crowd."

"Ah, as I see we're not that modest anymore, are we, _Blondie_?" Santana smirked.

"I'm gonna sing tonight." She said, glancing over at Holly.

"What?" She looked at the brunette confusingly. "You said you didn't want to."

"Well, I've changed my mind."

"Oh, okay. I'll tell the musicians then."

"Great, thanks. I'm going to get ready. Oh, and Holly, can you, please, not turn off the light tonight?"

"Anything for you, chica." She winked.

"Awesome." Santana stood up from her stool and looked over at Brittany, "I hope you will like it, _Blondie_." She said, smiling wickedly.

Holly and Brittany exchanged confused glances.

"I bet my sexy ass, she's up to something." Holly mumbled and took a sip of her drink.

"All done. Are you ready to celebrate our triumph?" Justin placed his hand on Brittany's shoulder.

"I am." She smiled. As they were about to go, a raspy voice filled the room.

"Good evening, everybody. I know usually I'm not talking to you, guys..."

"Oh my gosh! Is it what I think it is?" Justin squealed excitedly. "Britt, do you mind to watch her performance from here? Then we can go to the others."

"Sure." Brittany remembered that some of her co-workers had a huge crush on Santana.

"Tonight, before I start to sing a song, I would like to say that this performance is dedicated to a person who…uhm, who hold a _special_ place in my life." Santana smirked and looked over there where Brittany was standing. "Feel free to sing along if you know the words. That would be great, actually. I doubt you will be able to keep it up with my friend Holly, though. Also I have to warn you, guys, this woman can be sooo loud." The brunette waved to her friend, making Holly smile, rolling her eyes. "But you can try." Santana turned back a little, nodding at the musicians, and they began to play.

"What the-" Brittany's eyes went wide the moment she heard the first chords.

"Oh my God..." Holly breathed out a laugh. "She doesn't just do it, does she?"

Santana was singing, holding a microphone stand with her hands and deliciously swaying her hips. The Latina's eyes were closed, she was enjoying that.

"I totally love her!" Justin gushed out, causing Brittany to give him an incredulous look. "What? Look at her, she's marvelous!" He said and started to sing along just like the other people in the bar.

"I can't believe this is really happening." Brittany grumbled angrily. She clutched the bar counter, throwing daggers towards Santana.

_You're so vain_  
_You probably think this song is about you_

As she was singing the last chorus, she turned her head and looked at Brittany. The smirk never left her face.

"Oh my God, oh my God! She looks right over here!" Justin squeaked. "Britt, do you know her? Because it seems like she's looking at you."

The blonde didn't even bother to give him a second of her attention. "Who does she think she is?" The girl kept glaring at Santana.

_You're so vain_  
_I'll bet you think this song is about you_

Holly was continuing to laugh so hard, the tears were rolling down her cheeks. Santana was acting so childish.

_Don't you? Don't you?_

The song ended, but Santana didn't take her eyes off of Brittany. She licked her lips, a shit-eating grin on her face. She winked at the dancer and left the stage.

Brittany stormed off in an unknown direction, muttering curses under her breath.

"What's going on?" Justin asked Holly.

"Oh, boy. Now even I can't answer that question." She sighed and shook her head, wiping the last tear from the corner of her eye.

Santana walked out of the room where she was usually getting ready to perform into a small corridor. She locked the door and turned to go to the bar room when the boiling with anger blonde stood in her way.

"Well, it should be interesting." She muttered and looked up into her eyes. "Got lost?" She asked, smirking.

"What the hell was that?" Brittany growled.

"Well, as far as I know, it was a performance." Santana said simply.

"Don't play dumb, Santana." Brittany shoved her against the wall. The Latina gasped, it completely took her off guard. "Who gives you the right to treat me this way?" The dancer asked, stepping closer to her.

"Who said it was about you, _Blondie_?" Santana spat pack.

"Oh, plea-"

"Hey, girls. Is everything okay there?" One of the musicians interrupted Brittany, eyeing them worriedly.

"Totally. Brittany is just telling me how much she enjoyed our performance." Santana looked at the guy and smiled.

"Oh… You must be proud of your girlfriend, she killed it tonight." Brittany's eyes widened as she gaped at him.

"She is." Santana answered, smiling sweetly. "Right, Britt-Britt?" She purred and placed a hand on the blonde's hip, pulling her even closer than she already was.

"I see. Well, I'll leave you two alone then." The guy chuckled and left.

"Don't even try to play these games with me." Brittany warned.

The Latina pushed herself off the wall, shoving Brittany against the other one, hand still on the blonde's hip. "Or what?" Santana licked her lips and leaned into Brittany's ear. "What would you do, _Blondie_?" Her hot breath hit Brittany's ear in a teasing manner.

Brittany's body went weak. She was sure she would have slid down the wall, if Santana wouldn't hold her. The blonde couldn't understand why her body was reacting this way. She has known the Latina was provoking her just like the other night in the bar. Brittany closed her eyes tight and took a shaky breath, desperately trying to get herself together.

"God…" She whimpered, feeling dizzy, when Santana's scent filled her lungs. She felt Santana smirked against her ear, but there was nothing she could do about it.

"What's wrong? Just a few minutes ago you were so confident and look at you now, all flustered." The Latina said sweetly.

"F-fuck you." Brittany replied through clenched teeth, realizing how heavy her breathing was. Santana was so close, too close.

"Is it what were you trying to say?" Santana pulled away slightly, but leaving her face close enough to Brittany's one. "Is that what you want?" She said in a low husky voice.

The dancer swallowed hard and opened her eyes. Santana's smirk immediately disappeared as strikingly beautiful, piercing blue orbs met her dark chocolate ones. For the second time this day they got lost into each other's eyes, none of them had no clue what was going on. Santana took another step, so her body was flushed against Brittany's. She squeezed her hip slightly, sending a shiver down the blonde's back. Slowly, as if she was mesmerized, Santana started leaning in. Their lips were mere inches apart, each of the girls was waiting for the other to close the small gap between them.

"Uhm, girls?" Holly cleared her throat, causing Santana to shrink away from Brittany. They stared at Holly, with a look of absolute shock and confusion on their faces.

"I, uh, I've gotta go." Brittany squeaked.

The brunette watched her and then turned to Holly.

"Santana…" Holly began uncertainly.

"Not now." She stormed off, leaving Holly wondering what has just happened.

* * *

Santana was going to go home. It's been about an hour since her interaction with Brittany in the corridor. The blonde was sitting in a booth with some guy, who clearly wasn't her co-worker. Needless to say, this sight irritated Santana a lot.

"Ugh, look at them. Little Miss Perfection and Mister Creepy Pants, what a pretty couple! Jeez, is it only me who sees that he looks at her like she's a piece of meat?" The Latina grumbled, watching Brittany giggled as the guy whispered something in her ear.

"You know-" Holly said, causing Santana to turn back to her. "-if I didn't know you better, I'd think you're jealous." She mused.

"Huh? But, Holly, I'm gay. And even if I was into men, I assure you I would never like this perv." She glanced at the guy, curling her lip in disgust.

"Oh no, Sweet Lips. I'm talking about Brittany."

"_Blondie_?" The brunette's eyes went wide. "Are you insane? I bet she's not better than that creep, who keeps devouring her with his eyes."

"Really? Then what was that?"

"What was what?"

Holly rolled her eyes, "You pressing her against the wall in the corridor. What was that, Santana?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"It was nothing." The Latina snapped.

"It didn't look like nothing to me." The blonde grinned.

"You can't be serious, can you? I mean, she pretends to be so innocent, but in fact she's spoiled, arrogant, haughty and…and arrogant!" Santana exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

"That's not true and you know it. She's very sweet." Her friend retorted.

"Whatever. I'd better go home." Santana muttered and got up from her stool.

The Latina walked out of the building and stopped, looking for her car keys. While she was digging through her purse, Santana heard a murmuring. She glanced to the left and saw a man bent over the woman, who was sitting on the ground, leaning her back against the wall.

"Hey, is everything alright there?" She asked.

"Yeah, my wife has drank too much tonight." The man straightened. It was dark outside, so Santana couldn't see his face.

"Oh, o-kay. Do you need any help?"

"No-no, I can handle it." He answered hastily.

"Alright then." Santana shrugged and turned to go in the opposite direction from them. She took a few steps, but stopped dead in her tracks as she heard a voice. Santana could recognize that voice even if it was so weak. She spun around, looking through the darkness.

"_Blondie_?" She called out, making her way to the couple.

"I told you, Miss, I get it." The man said sharply.

The brunette ignored him. As soon as she could see the girl, she clenched her fists. "What the fuck is going on there?" The Latina barked, looking up at the man. It was that creep from the bar.

"Listen-"

"No, _you_ listen to me, asshole. If I find a tiny bruise or even a small scratch on her body, I will endz you. I'll put you in jail, where you're going to rot the rest of your pathetic life." She growled, glaring at him. "And, trust me, it will be the best part, because now you're gonna meet Auntie Snix, who really wants to play with you. And I will tell you how it's going to go. Can you see my pumps? I love them, I really do. But now I'm gonna take one of them off and shove this perfect 120mm heel right into your _back door_, making you screech and not in pleasure. Nod if you got it." He nodded. "Good. If I'll think it's not enough, I'll break the heel, not pulling it out of you. And only then I'll call the cops." It took all her self-control not to go mad with rage.

The guy gulped and shook his head, "Y-you wouldn't d-do it." He stepped back.

"Watch me and count to three." She started take one of her pumps off.

His eyes widened in horror and he stormed away from the furious Latina.

Santana looked down at the girl. Brittany curled up into a ball on the ground, burying her face in her knees.

"Don't, please." The blonde flinched as Santana tried to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay now. He's gone." The Latina kneeled in front of her. "I won't hurt you, I promise." She cooed.

"No, you can do bad things with me and present it in a way that I would be guilty, because you're a badass lawyer. And then I will go in jail." Brittany said weakly.

"Bad things, huh? I mean, just wanky." The Latina smiled and continued, "But why would I do that?" She stared at the blonde confusingly.

"Because you hate me." Brittany answered simply.

"I've never said that and I don't hate you. But I clearly remember I've told you that you shouldn't be afraid of me. And I mean it, Brittany."

The dancer looked up at Santana, "You called me by my name."

"I did." Santana smiled. "Now come on, let's get you home." She reached her hands out for Brittany to take it. As the blonde took them, Santana helped her to stand up. "Uhm, where is your purse?"

"I forgot it in the bar." Brittany said quietly.

"Oh, well, then we need to go and get it." At these words the blonde bit her lip and looked down at her feet. "Uh, you can also wait for me in my car and I'll go and get it." Santana offered. "No? Brittany, tell me what do you want me to do and I'll do it." She squeezed her hands slightly, but still no reaction. A few seconds passed and Santana heard her sniffled. "No-no-no… I'll call Holly, okay? She's still there, so she will get it and bring it here, okay? Please, don't cry."

After a few minutes Holly marched out of the bar. As she approached the girls she saw Brittany was crying. Holly narrowed her eyes at Santana, "Santana Lopez! What did you do?" She demanded.

"Not so loud, Holly. Don't you see she's scared?"

"Brittany, sweetie, tell me what's happened?" Holly cooed, but Brittany remained silent. "I swear to God, Santana, if you-"

"Calm your tits, it wasn't me!" The brunette cut her off. "Here, take it and call Quinn." She pulled her phone out of her purse, unblocked it and handed to Holly. "I need to take Brittany home, but I don't know where she's living at. And as you see, she gives no reply."

Santana leaded Brittany to her car with Holly following them behind. The brunette opened the passenger door for the dancer and Brittany climbed in.

"Well?" She asked Holly.

"Quinn doesn't answer." Her friend shook her head.

"Fuck." Santana muttered. "What should I do now?" She ran her hand through her hair.

"I guess you should take her home…" Holly said slowly. "To your place."

"What?! Are you…what?" Santana stared at her in disbelief, but Holly just shrugged her shoulders.

The Latina rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Fine." She breathed out.

* * *

"There are a toothbrush and, uh, towel in case if you want to take a shower." Santana walked back in to the guest room. "Wait! You need clothes to change. I'll be right back." She skipped to her own bedroom. Santana thought about a tank top and shorts, but considering the situation, she decided Brittany would feel herself more comfortable, wearing a pair of sweatpants with a hoodie.

"Here you go." She handed the items to the blonde. "I'll wait-" Brittany shut the bathroom door closed, "-here." Santana mumbled.

15 minutes later Brittany walked out of the bathroom, wearing Santana's clothes. Brittany was taller than Santana, so her pants were a little too short. The Latina smiled at the sight, Brittany looked pretty adorable.

"Do you need anything else?" Santana asked as the blonde climbed into bed. "Please, Brittany, talk to me." She said desperately.

Brittany bit her lip, looking unsure. "Can you hold me?" She asked almost inaudibly.

"What? Why?" Santana's eyes widened.

"I'm scared."

"Don't be. This is a good neighborhood, there is a doorman downstairs and, uhm, and it's a 15th floor so no one will climb through the window. You're safe." Santana nodded, satisfied with her answer.

"Please." Brittany whispered.

"No, I won't do that. I just...won't." The blonde looked hurt and for some strange reason Santana couldn't stand it, "You can take Ms. Cutie if you want to." She blurted.

"What?" Brittany was confused.

"WHAT?!" Santana squealed. She couldn't believe she just said that.

"Who is Ms. Cutie? Is there someone else? I thought we were alone." The dancer pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Uh, no." The Latina answered nervously. "Ms. Cutie she is, uh, it's a unicorn." She blushed furiously, slapping herself mentally across the face.

Brittany's eyes lit up, she stared excitedly at Santana, "You have a unicorn! Can we go to see her?"

"It's a stuffed animal." The Latina said slowly, giving Brittany a strange look.

"Oh…" The blonde was a little upset. "I would like to get it, though." She said timidly.

A few moments later Santana walked back in to the room, holding a blue unicorn with a pink mane in her hands.

"She's so…cute!" Santana gave her cuddle buddy to the girl. "You gave her a name?" Brittany smiled.

"Pshh, n-no." The brunette answered, avoiding eye contact. "It was, uh, on the label."

"Mhmm, if you say so." Brittany studied Santana's face. "Anyway, I like it. It fits her."

"Okay!" The Latina clapped her hands. "I've got you a glass of water while you were in the bathroom, it's on the nightstand. Uhm, my bedroom is just down the hall, in case if you need something." Brittany's face immediately fell. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Santana." Brittany said in a small voice. "Can you, please, leave the light over an armchair on?" She pointed at the piece of furniture in the corner of the room.

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"Yeah..." Santana nodded and walked out through the door, closing it behind her.

Half an hour later the Latina was standing in front of the guest room door with a blanket and court documents in her hands.

"It's stupid." She muttered and turned back to her own room. "She has nothing to be afraid of here." The brunette mused quietly. "Ugh, fine." She huffed and carefully stepped into the guest room.

Brittany was sleeping, clutching a soft toy tightly to her chest. She looked so peaceful. Santana walked over to the armchair, sat down on it, tucked her feet under herself, put the blanket over her lap and took the documents from the floor, adjusting her glasses as they slipped down the bridge of her nose.

She didn't know how long she was working, but eventually tiredness got the best of her and Santana fell asleep.

Brittany woke up in the middle of the night, feeling thirsty. She took a few sips from the glass of water and sighed contently. The girl was about to go back to sleep when she spotted Santana in the armchair. Brittany rubbed her eyes and blinked, thinking she was seeing things. But Santana was still there. The blonde got up from bed and walked over to the Latina. She picked the blanket up from the floor and gently tucked it around the sleeping girl. Then Brittany took the glasses off Santana's face and went to put it on the nightstand.

Brittany got back to bed and crawled under the covers, cuddling with Ms. Cutie. She thought about Santana. The Latina refused to hold her, but then she came back and stayed with her, sleeping in an uncomfortable position on the armchair. Brittany didn't know why, but it making her feel very warm inside. She fell back asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

**A/N: I hope it wasn't too much.**


	10. Chapter 10

Brittany's eyes fluttered open and she found herself nuzzling into something pink and plush. She pulled back a little and realized she was cuddling with Ms. Cutie. The memories about last night flashed through her mind, causing the blonde to squeeze her eyes shut and groan a little, burying her face back into the unicorn. First the trial, then the Chicago premiere, which was a huge success, by the way. Then Brittany and the other dancers went to Holliday Bar to celebrate it. Santana, her performance, their dialogue in the hallway. That creepy guy. Santana.

As the thoughts about the fierce brunette came into her head, Brittany shot up in bed, looking in the corner of the room. The light over the armchair was still on, but the sleeping Latina wasn't there. As well as the papers on the armrest and the blanket, that Brittany picked up from the floor and covered Santana with. The blonde glanced at the nightstand – Santana's glasses disappeared just like the other items. Brittany inhaled heavily. She thought what if that was just a dream? Brittany shook her head; it seemed too real to be a dream. Her look focused on the glass of water, which was still on the nightstand. It was half-full. She smiled. She really woke up in the middle of the night because of thirst and Santana had slept in the armchair.

Few minutes passed and Brittany decided it was time to get up. She rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom.

After brushing her teeth and taking a shower, Brittany stepped out of the guest room, still wearing sweatpants and hoodie. She didn't want to change in her own outfit from last night and since she slept just one night in Santana's clothes it wasn't gross or anything. Besides, it was too comfy to give it back to Santana yet. The blonde wasn't sure where the kitchen was, and since the Latina's apartment was quite large, Brittany had to wander through it before she made her way to the room she was looking for. She spotted Santana standing at the island, cup of coffee in her hand. The girl was already all dressed up, ready to the trial.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Santana cheered, looking up at Brittany.

The dancer stopped with a look of confusion and bewilderment on her face.

"Ugh, sorry." The brunette shoulders slumped down. "Just always wanted to say that. Morning." She mumbled and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Morning." Brittany replied quietly.

"Have a seat." Santana nodded her head at the stool next to her. She set her mug next to a newspaper on the island and turned away from the blonde to get another mug of the cupboard.

As soon as Brittany sat down, Santana has set a mug of hot liquid in front of the girl. Brittany inhaled the aroma and breathed out contently, smiling slightly.

"Hot chocolate." She hummed after she took a sip.

"Um, yeah. I didn't know if you like it, but my mom always says a cup of hot chocolate makes your day better. And since yesterday was, uhm, a rough day and today isn't gonna be easy as well, I thought…well, yeah." The Latina awkwardly scratched the back of her neck.

"Thank you. I love hot chocolate." Brittany answered timidly, glancing up at Santana who rubbed her neck, tilting her head left and right, wincing slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, just my neck aches a little." The brunette waved off.

"Here, let me help you." Brittany stood up and walked over to Santana.

"What? No, I'm fine." Santana tried to take a step away from the dancer, but Brittany grabbed her by the arm and sat her down on the stool.

"Don't worry, my mom is a masseur, so I'm pretty good with my fingers." The blonde stated simply, starting to massage Santana's neck.

"Wanky." Santana muttered letting her head fell back as Brittany kept working her magic on the girl.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Your neck is so tense. Is it always like that?" Brittany asked.

"No, it isn't. Slept uncomfortable, I guess."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, my pillow fell on the floor, so I've slept in a strange position all night, you know." The Latina elaborated.

"Have you slept in your bed?" The girl questioned.

"Sure. Where else could I sleep?" Santana answered matter-of-factly.

"Right…" The blonde sucked in her lips. If she didn't know better, she'd believed Santana.

For a few minutes the room was filled with silence, broken from time to time by Santana's humming.

"You're really good with your fingers." The Latina said as her eyes rolled back into her head once again.

"Wanky." Brittany repeated the brunette's words.

"As if you know what it means." Santana scoffed. "Ouch! What was that for?!" She yelped when Brittany pinched her neck. The Latina tried to stand up, but the blonde put the hands on her shoulders, not giving her a chance.

"For you being mean." Brittany answered, continuing to give her a massage.

"Me being mean? It's you! You were mean!" This time Santana managed to wriggle free and she turned around, glaring at Brittany.

"What? When I was mean?" She looked confused.

"Now!" The Latina threw her arms up. "You pinched me!"

"I did it just because _you_ were mean." Brittany defended.

"When you're doing something mean just because the other person did something mean it _is_ mean, too! You pinched me so hard it hurts!" Santana exclaimed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie. Should I go and get Ms. Cutie so you could nuzzle into her and cry your heart out?" The blonde asked sarcastically.

Santana's mouth fell open and her eyes widened in shock. She definitely didn't expect this. "Eat your breakfast." She mumbled, moving a plate of waffles closer to the blonde.

"I'll eat at home." Brittany retorted.

"No, you'll eat here."

"No, I will not!" Brittany stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Jeez, how mature." Santana scoffed.

"Said a girl with a plush unicorn." The blonde scoffed back.

Santana blushed furiously. Brittany wasn't sure if it was of embarrassment or anger. "Fine! Stay hungry all day. It's not like I care."

"What? Why I'm gonna be hungry all day? Are you going to lock me up here?"

"You wish, _Blondie_." The Latina smirked. "Anyway, you will not have time to eat if you're going to be in the courthouse today. We have 20 minutes before we should go to pick Quinn up."

"We?" Brittany asked, puzzled. "I can do it by myself. She's my friend." Brittany said a little too harshly. She knew Santana had a point, because it would be easier and faster to go at her house before they all could go at the courthouse, but the she didn't want to admit it.

Santana took a deep breath before she said, "Look, Brittany, I know I'm probably the last person you'd like to see. But things have happened and we're here now. I'd gladly have driven you to your place yesterday, but you didn't tell me the address." She shrugged. "So could you, please, put your hate down for a-"

"About that, Santana, I don't think I will be able to-" Brittany tried to tell Santana how much grateful she was, because the Latina literally saved her. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if Santana wasn't there last night.

"No, I get it, I really do." Santana interrupted. "I won't force you to eat here, do whatever you want to do. I'll finish my coffee in the other room, so you don't have to breathe in the same air with me." She said a bit sadly, recalling Brittany's words from the other night.

The blonde bit her lip and looked down at her lap, guiltily. Santana was the most confusing person she had ever met. Sure, the Latina still annoyed her, but there were moments when she couldn't help but felt a strange attraction to Santana. Did Brittany hate her? No, she couldn't say that anymore.

"Santana?" She called when the brunette was about to step out of the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Stay?" Brittany looked at her with pleading eyes.

The girl hesitated for a few moments, but then nodded and made her way back to the island. Brittany exhaled relievedly and took a waffle from the plate. "Thank you." She whispered.

"You're welcome." Santana whispered back, knowing the blonde was meaning not just the waffles.

* * *

"Well, you go to get ready and I'll wait here." Santana said as she had parked her car in front of Brittany's house.

"Don't be ridiculous, you can come in. It's not like we'll be ready in a minute." Brittany shrugged her shoulders and stepped out of the car.

Once Brittany opened the front door she saw the small blonde excitedly hurried down the stairs.

"Britty! Mommy, Britty came back!" She exclaimed.

"Hey! I see you're ready to go, huh?" Brittany wrapped one arm around Kathy's shoulders and tried to take a few steps further into the house, but it wasn't easy when the little girl was hanging on her leg.

"Why haven't you slept home?" Kathy asked, looking up at Brittany curiously, not noticing the brunette who was awkwardly standing by the front door.

The dancer didn't know what to say, but, fortunately, was saved by another blonde who threw her arms around Brittany, hugging her tightly.

"Britt!" Quinn breathed out relievedly. "Are you alright? I've talked to Holly earlier. Britt, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up my phone last night. Kathy was worried because of the trial and I stayed in her room and then fell asleep." Quinn was on the verge of tears.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Really. Let me go, Drama queen, we don't have all day."

"Uh-huh." Quinn mumbled, burying her face into her best friend's shoulder.

"Quinn, come on." Brittany whined. "I see that you and Kathy are ready to go, but I need to change. Or you want me to go in these sweats and hoodie? You know I can." Brittany giggled, when Quinn shook her head lightly still nuzzling into her shoulder.

"Right, I'm sorry." The hazel-eyed blonde released Brittany from her bear hug. After a couple of steps back she noticed Santana was still standing at the door, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

"Santana!" Quinn exclaimed and ran to the Latina, pulling her into another bear hug. Brittany rolled her eyes at Quinn and walked up the stairs. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you." Santana's eyes widened comically at this greeting. She awkwardly patted Quinn's back, mumbling something unintelligible.

"Sorry." A few moments later Quinn pulled away, realizing she was acting overly dramatic.

"It's alright." The brunette looked at her amusingly. She had never seen Quinn acting this way; usually the blonde was quite composed.

"Hello, my name is Kathy." Quinn's mini-copy walked to Santana with an outstretched hand for a handshake.

The Latina looked down and smiled. "Hello, I'm Santana." She politely shook her hand. "I'm, uhm…" Santana stammered, not knowing what to say next. She glanced over at Quinn for help, but turned out she didn't need it when the little girl spoke again.

"Oh…" She breathed, staring at Santana, fascinated. The brunette frowned slightly, confused by Kathy's reaction. "I know who you are. You're defending mommy from unfair judgments that were imposed by society."

Now it was Santana's turn to stare at Kathy with her mouth wide open. Not that she was very experienced in dealing with children, but she knew that the nine-year old kids do not talk like that.

"I'm pretty smart, right?" Kathy asked without false modesty.

Santana chuckled, shaking her head slightly in amazement. "You're definitely the smartest of all the kids that I've ever met."

The girl blushed furiously and bowed her head down, trying to hide her wide grin. After a couple of moments she looked up again. Kathy opened her mouth to speak, but when no words came out, she closed it, intensively staring at Santana.

"What is it?" The Latina asked, smiling gently.

"You're very pretty." Kathy became even redder.

"Thank you, Kathy. You're really pretty, too. And I like your dress, it emphasizes your eye color." Santana answered.

"Britty is always telling me that, too!" Kathy beamed. "About the dress and my eye color. No, wait. She says I'm pretty as well…and also she said you're very beaut-"

"I'm ready!" Brittany skipped down the stairs.

"Gr-reat…" Santana was still looking at Kathy, thinking about what the girl was going to say if Brittany didn't interrupted her. "Let's go then, shall we?" Santana finally looked up at Quinn, then at Brittany. Both women nodded and with that Santana turned around to open the front door.

When they made their way to the Latina's car, without thinking Brittany hopped into the passenger seat, surprising her best friend. It's not like Quinn wanted to sit in front, but knowing that the things between Santana and Brittany weren't easy, she thought the blonde would rather sit behind her lawyer, but not next to her. Quinn shrugged her shoulders and climbed in the back seat next to Kathy. Santana quietly started the car and pulled out on to the empty street, driving away from Brittany's house to Kathy's school. They were riding in a comfortable silence, trying to enjoy the last minutes of calm before the three girls will have to return in the tense atmosphere of the trial.

* * *

"So, let me make this clear. You had been working with Mr. Walcott?" In front of Santana was sitting another Finn's witness, who was a co-worker of Quinn's late husband. Needless to say this witness wasn't telling anything new or anything that could really be truth.

"Yes."

"And you were good friends with him?" Santana asked, knowing already the answer.

"That is correct." The man said.

"And he had been sharing his thoughts with you on the fact that his wife had an affair."

"Yes, Derek was very upset about this."

"I see... And let me guess, you've never met this woman before." Santana said, pointing to Quinn.

"No, we don't know each other."

"Of course you don't know each other." The Latina said sarcastically. "You know, it seems to me like you and your co-workers that had been sitting here before, are working in some secret organization and it's strictly prohibited to communicate with your colleagues outside of your work building." Santana was beyond furious and wasn't even trying to hide it.

The witness was confused and scared at some point. He helplessly looked at Finn, not knowing how to react. The assistant district attorney sighed heavily and got up, reluctantly.

"Objection. Ms. Lopez impugns the testify of _all_ my witnesses." Finn said.

"Sustained. Ms. Lopez-" Judge Jones turned to Santana. "-don't forget where you are." She warned.

"I'm sorry, You Honor, but this is a nonsense! I understand where I am, but Mr. Hudson is obviously thinking that this is some kind of a chapiteau-show. How many more witnesses does he have who claim they all were good friends with my client's husband, but none of them haven't met her before? Okay, let's say they're not that kind of friends who are hanging out together or making big dinners for each other. But they had been on the same corporate parties and still Mr. Walcott hadn't introduced his wife, whom he loved immensely as all they say, to no one of these good friends. It's just ridiculous!" Santana exclaimed, throwing her arms up. Her temper has reached a peak.

"Ms. Lopez!" The judge raised her voice. "Keep your emotions under control. Each of witnesses has sworn in front of the court, they all are respectable people and we have no reason to doubt the veracity of their words. Unless, if you can prove the otherwise." She quirked an eyebrow, looking at Santana. Seeing the Latina wasn't going to speak she continued. "This is your first warning, do you understand me?" The judge asked sternly.

"Yes, I do, Your Honor." Santana answered as calmly as she could.

"Perfect. Do you have any further questions to the witness, Ms. Lopez?"

"No further questions, Your Honor." Santana inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down, while her mind was racing. Something was telling her it wasn't over. She didn't know what game Finn was playing, but she was sure that wasn't the worst part of this trial, yet. Santana turned around and walked to her desk, without missing a smug look that Finn gave her.

"The people call George Walcott." The clerk announced and Quinn's father-in-law walked in to the room.

"Derek Walcott was his son." Finn said. "Sir, your family had been living in Lima, but when your son graduated from high school and went to college you moved to New Haven. Why? It is not uncommon when children go on to college, which is located far from their home."

"I know. Don't think my son wasn't an independent person. No, he could take care of himself. But, you see, Quinn got pregnant when she was a sophomore in high school and they didn't even consider the abortion as an option. Next year she and Derek got their letters from Yale and, well, they both had to get a higher education, which would give them the way to a bright future. But it would have been tougher if they were on their own. Which is why I and my wife decided to move to New Haven and help them taking care about our granddaughter." Mr. Walcott explained.

"And then, a few years later, you moved to New York." Finn continued.

"Yes. They had graduated and there was no reason for us to stay in New Haven as well. We originally knew we weren't going to settle it there. At first me and my wife were thinking to move back to Lima, but decided to buy a house in New York as well. My wife she's not really a fan of big cities, our children is a main reason to stay here."

"I thought Derek was your only child."

"Derek and Quinn had started dating in high school; she's like a daughter to us." Mr. Walcott sighed sadly.

"I see… Does it mean their relationship was always, like, in front of your eyes?" Finn asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Sure, there is time when I have to be back in Ohio. My business is there, after all. But I've worked pretty hard, so I can manage it from anywhere now."

"Well, then I think you can told us how often they had been arguing or fighting."

"Just like any couples they had their disagreements, but nothing too serious. Derek had always been telling us that Quinn is the one for him."

"So you think that the beating your wife it is not too serious." Finn pushed.

Mr. Walcott clenched his jaw. "My son would never have raised his hand on a woman."

"So you deny it?"

"I do. I had raised a real man." Mr. Walcott stated harshly.

Finn nodded and turned to look at Santana. "Your witness."

"Mr. Walcott, you said your son would never have raised his hand on a woman. Does it mean that you think your daughter-in-law is lying?" Santana asked.

"I do think so." The man answered without hesitation.

"How do you know?"

He narrowed his eyes at the Latina. "Derek had no secrets from me; he had always been asking my advice if something was wrong."

"Everyone has their secrets, Mr. Walcott." Santana crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you think that real man, whom you had raised properly, was ashamed to admit that he had been beating his wife?"

"How dare you?" Mr. Walcott hissed.

"It's just a question, sir." Santana stated matter-of-factly.

"Objection!" Finn shot up from his chair.

"On what grounds?" Judge Jones asked him.

"Ms. Lopez…she's, uh, it's offensive." Finn said lamely.

"The objection has been overruled."

"No, I don't think so." Mr. Walcott glared at Santana.

"So, you've never noticed injuries or bruises on the defendant's body?" The Latina quirked an eyebrow.

"No, I have not."

Santana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Excuse me, sir, but that's not true!" She exclaimed.

"Objection, Your Honor!" Finn roared.

"Ms. Lopez!" The judge exclaimed.

Santana couldn't care less. She knew George Walcott has lied and she wasn't going to drop it. "Let's say you haven't seen some bruises, but do not tell me you have not noticed that my client's arm was broken. Or what? You haven't seen her in months?"

Mr. Walcott kept glaring at Santana, but stayed silent. The brunette was about to continue when she heard a sniff. She looked over at Quinn, but that wasn't her. She looked then at the other blonde in the room, but Brittany was just staring back at Santana, intensively. The Latina frowned, she knew she heard something. Santana glanced at the people, who were sitting behind Finn, and then she saw it. Carol Walcott was trying to hold back her sobs, staring down at her lap. Santana ran her hand through her hair and turned back to the witness.

"Answer the question, Mr. Walcott!" She demanded.

"So what if her arm was broken? Is my son now the reason of every scratch on her body?" He spat. "She fell down the stairs, for God's sake!"

"Did you know she has a medical report of beatings? And no, I'm saying not about the injuries that she had got the day when your son died."

"No, I didn't know that." Mr. Walcott growled.

"Well, maybe your son wasn't completely honest with you then…" Santana shrugged. "No further questions, Your Honor." She said, never taking her eyes off the man.

Few moments passed, but it seemed that Santana had no intention to get back to her table. Mr. Walcott was still sitting in the witness stand, continuing their staring contest.

Judge Jones cleared her throat. "Mr. Walcott, you can take a seat in the gallery now." The man nodded and went to sit next to his crying wife. Santana eyed them suspiciously before she made her way to the defense table.

The clerk called out Melanie Adams. Quinn looked at the woman, trying to remember where she could have seen her. The blonde was sure she never heard this name before, but strangely her face was very familiar.

"Ms. Adams-" Finn started. "-how do you know the defendant?"

"Uhm, actually, I don't. Well, not personally." The witness said.

"How so?"

"Uh, I mean I know who she is, 'cause, you know, I have TV and read magazines so…" She trailed off.

"Okay…" Finn said slowly. "And?"

"Oh, right! I'm working in that store where she goes grocery shopping at. I'm a cashier."

"Do you recognize her?" Santana whispered to Quinn.

"Yeah, at first I couldn't understand why she looks so familiar, but now I get it." Quinn whispered back.

"-I worked the day shift and I remember Ms. Fabray-Walcott was shopping in our store that day. Uhm, then I went for lunch at a diner across the street and, well, I saw TV News…uh, they said he was dead…I mean Derek Walcott and I was like _'Weird, I've seen his wife earlier'_." Ms. Adams said.

"Have you noticed anything suspicious in her actions?" Finn asked.

The woman shook her head. "She acted in the same way as any of our customers. Except for the fact that she was trying to hide her neck."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know, maybe she was ashamed of the marks on her neck." Ms. Adams shrugged her shoulders. "At first I thought it were love marks, you know. But then when I looked more closely, it didn't look like love marks."

"And what did they look like?"

"Like-like, uh, like they were caused by suffocation."

"That's a lie, Santana! I swear, that's not true. You have to believe me, you have to." Quinn whispered frantically, tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"And that was the worst part." The Latina muttered under her breath, paying no attention to the blonde.

All those witnesses were just a single drop in the sea. They were nothing, but with the testimony of Melanie Adams it all made sense now. Finn wanted Quinn to looked like a monster in the jury's eyes. The cold-blooded manslayer, which had planned everything from the beginning to the end. Santana was horrified. For the first time in her career she had no idea what she could do to make the jury doubt that testimony.

Santana snapped out of her thoughts when Quinn put the hand on her shoulder. She looked at the crying blonde and her heart clenched. She gulped lump in her throat and smiled reassuringly.

"She's lying, Santana." Quinn whispered weakly.

"I know." That was all the brunette could say.

Finn smirked triumphantly, seeing panic at the defense table. "What time was it?" He asked Ms. Adams.

"Uhm, about ten o'clock in the morning." The witness said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it was a slow morning, so I was always watching at the clock, waiting for my break."

"According to the autopsy report, Derek Walcott died around eleven to eleven-thirty in the morning." Finn stated. "No further questions."

Santana didn't even have time to get up from her chair when the clerk approached Judge Jones. The Latina eyed them confusingly, not knowing if she should begin. She saw the judge nodded to clerk and turned her attention to the people in the courtroom.

"The hearing will resume in ten minutes." With that Judge Jones walked out of the courtroom.

Santana decided it would be better to go to the attorney-client conference room. She told Brittany and Quinn to follow her and they left the courtroom, too. As they walking down the hall Santana saw George and Carol Walcott were arguing about something.

"George, but what if she's not lying? You know it can be-"

"No! Don't even go there, Carol." Mr. Walcott cut his wife off, seeing Santana was eyeing them curiously. She glanced over at Mrs. Walcott, but the woman quickly looked away.

"Weird." The Latina muttered.

"What are you going to do?" Brittany asked as they walked in to the room. "You know she's lying, right?" The blonde was hugging Quinn tightly.

"I know, Brittany." Santana answered.

"Good. I just…you have to do something, Santana." The dancer shook her head. "What about others?"

"There is nothing I can do about it."

"What? But Quinn doesn't even know those people!"

Santana groaned, closing her eyes. She rubbed her temples, trying to concentrate. "Do you remember Kyle Johnson?"

"That man who said he was a psychologist?" Santana nodded. "Yeah…" Brittany said.

"Well, he really is a Derek's co-worker. Do you know what that means? It means that anyone from his work is ready to confirm his words. How do I know that? Oh, it's easy. You saw what's going on in the courtroom. So, please, can we drop it now, because I need to think what to do with bullshit that Ms. Adams has told." Santana would be ready to bang her head against the wall, if it gave her at least one good idea.

"Every store has cameras, right? Maybe you should check it? Then we'll see that Quinn hadn't any injuries and well…" Brittany trailed off.

"It's not that easy, Brittany. Even if I can get this videotape, the record quality isn't good enough to see anything on Quinn's neck." Santana sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Wait." She suddenly opened her eyes. "Of course! Why didn't it cross my mind before? It actually can work." The brunette mused.

"What? What are you talking about?" Brittany stared at Santana, but the Latina just smirked mischievously. The dancer looked at Quinn confusingly, but her friend just shrugged her shoulders.

"Let's go." Santana opened the door and stepped aside, letting the girls go ahead. When Brittany was about to walk out of the room Santana put her hand on the blonde's shoulder gently, causing Brittany to turn around and look at her. "You are genius, _Blondie_." The Latina said sincerely and nodded a few times, showing that it wasn't some joke. Brittany blushed and ducked her head, making Santana smile. "Come on now, it's time to make that woman squirm a little."

"Ms. Adams, you said you saw some marks on the defendant's neck." The hearing has resumed.

"I-I did."

"Can you describe what did they look like?" Santana asked.

"I, uhm, I said it was like they were-"

"Caused by suffocation." Santana interrupted her. "But that's not what I'm asking."

"Uh, no?" The witness shifted.

"No. I mean…they probably looked awful, right? Huge purple bruises all over Ms. Fabray-Walcott' neck, yeah?" Santana stared predatorily at the woman.

"Y-yes…" Ms. Adams glanced over Santana's shoulder. The Latina didn't even need to turn back to know who the woman was looking at. "N-no?"

"You tell me." The brunette tilted her head, eyeing the woman.

"They weren't purple – they were, uh, red?" Ms. Adams discreetly glanced at Finn. "Yeah, they were slightly red."

"Does your store have security cameras?"

"Sure."

"So we can watch that videotape and see what you have told us?"

The woman shifted, not knowing what to say.

"Can we?" The Latina pushed.

"I, uh, I g-guess so."

"Ms. Adams, you do know that the general perjury statute provides for a sentence of up to five years in prison, right?" Santana asked casually.

Ms. Adams gulped. "I d-do."

"Objection! Ms. Lopez is threatening my witness!" Finn shot up from his chair.

"Sustained." Judge Jones stared at Santana, giving her an _'are you fucking serious'_ look.

The Latina lifted her hands up in a surrender gesture, smiling innocently. "Nothing further."

"The witness may step down." The clerk announced.

"We are recessed until tomorrow morning, nine-thirty sharp at which time the defense will give its opening statement and call its first witness." The judge stated.

"What the hell was that, Lopez?" Finn hissed, approaching Santana.

"You tell me, Double-Stuffed-Fatty-Gassy-McGravy pants. You should teach your witnesses to lie better next time." Santana glared at him.

Once the girls were in Santana's car Brittany asked. "What was that? I thought you said we wouldn't see anything on the videotape."

"Mhmm." Santana hummed, looking at the road.

"Would you care to explain?" The dancer became impatient.

"Well, I didn't know if Melanie Adams was aware she wouldn't see anything important on that videotape, but I've decided to take a risk. I know it isn't much, but the jury saw that Hudson's story isn't that smooth. Well, I hope they've noticed how nervous and unsure that woman was. It's already something, right?"

"So, in other words, you deceived her?" Brittany frowned.

"What? No! It was an innocent little trick." Santana retorted.

"Whatever. This trial still sucks." Brittany crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to look out the car window.

Neither Santana nor Quinn didn't say anything; all three of them knew Brittany was right.

* * *

Next morning Santana came at the courthouse a little earlier than it was necessary. She called Quinn to say she'll be waiting for her and Brittany in the attorney-client conference room. The blonde didn't reply, so she sent her a text and began to re-examine all that she had planned for today.

When she had ten minutes left before the hearing will resume, Santana began to worry because Quinn and Brittany still hadn't appeared. She called her client once again, but the call went unreplied. The Latina thought maybe Quinn hadn't read her text and the girls were waiting for her in the courtroom. She hoped so, because it was time to go. Santana gathered her papers and walked out of the room.

Hundreds unanswered calls and five voicemail messages later Santana was on the verge of fainting. She already called Holly to ask Brittany's number, but the woman didn't have it, too.

"What's wrong, Lopez? Can't find your client?" Finn scoffed.

"Fuck off, Hudson. Mind your own business." She growled.

Santana noticed as the judge stepped in to the room and immediately approached her.

"Ms. Lopez?" Judge Jones looked surprised.

"Ugh, good morning, Your Honor." The Latina started nervously. "Could you, maybe, postpone the hearing until tomorrow morning?"

"What? And why is that?" The judge looked around the room, noticing the defendant wasn't here. Her eyes widened. "Where is your client, Ms. Lopez?"

Santana gulped. "I-I don't know."

"What the hell, Santana?" The woman whispered angrily. "I've had enough of your attitude yesterday. Don't you understand what are you doing? You're ruining your career, girl!"

"Oh, I _do_ understand. Besides, my boss made it pretty clear yesterday." She whispered back. "But what do you suggest, Mercedes? Let this asshole Hudson put Quinn Fabr-"

"Hell no, I'm Mercedes when we're singing karaoke together. Now I'm Judge Jones, we are not friends while we're here." She looked around, making sure nobody heard them.

"_You_ called me by my first name." Santana retorted. "But whatever, Your Honor, it's not the point. I know something has happened. I just…I know it. There must be a reason for my client not to be here." She looked pleadingly at Mercedes.

The woman sighed heavily and shook her head. "She'd better be here tomorrow. Otherwise, you know the consequences. I guess you realize how much harder it's gonna be to convince the jury that your client is innocent now when she failed to attend the hearing."

Once Mercedes announced the hearing was postponed at tomorrow and Santana was about to open the courthouse's front door, someone grabbed her by the arm.

"You're so getting creamed, Lopez." Finn whispered in her ear, then smirked and walked out of the building.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so so sorry, guys, for making you wait. I'm working on my college diploma now, and it goes tough, 'cause I don't really like my major and, well, I'm not really smart.**

**I don't have writer's block or something and all this Brittana situation makes me wanna write even more, but unfortunately I can't, not now. Ugh, I wish I could get some hugs, but people around me don't even know what Glee is.**

**Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, following, favorite-ing. Oh, and PM's! Sorry if I didn't respond this time. Anyway I can't live without tumblr (can you blame me?), so if you have something important (or not) you'd want to ask, feel free. ;-)**


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